On the Mend
by xiao chan
Summary: FINISHED AU: After the brutal murder of her parents, Bella's sent to live in Forks under the Witness Protection Program. Her will to live dwindles with each passing day...but can a sympathetic Edward convince her that life is worth living after all?
1. Prologue

**Summary: Bella is witness to the brutal murder of her parents in Phoenix, Arizona. Now she's moved to Forks, Washington in an attempt to escape the men who want to kill her. Unfortunately, her will to live diminishes with each passing day. Can a sympathetic Edward convince her that life is worth living after all?**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Edward, I wouldn't be here right now. I also don't own the song, "On the Mend" by Foo Fighters, after which this story is named.**

**Prologue**

"Do you have any questions, Bella?"

I looked up into gentle brown eyes. Detective Anderson had been incredibly kind to me, a kindness I didn't deserve. In fact, everyone had been nice to me: the other officers, the lawyers, the detectives…they were all so nice. And it killed me.

"No," I said quietly.

Detective Manning next to him leaned forward slightly. "I know that you're scared," she began, "but I don't want you to worry about anything. No one's going to get to you while we're around."

At that moment, Julia Andrews walked into the room, dressed in a navy pantsuit. "Ms. Dwyer? Are you ready?"

No. "Yes."

Everyone in the room stood. Mrs. Andrews led the way and Detectives Anderson and Manning flanked me on both sides. I couldn't see a thing in front of me because Mrs. Andrews was so tall so I kept my eyes on the generically beige tile. My heart was beating in my throat and my lungs were so constricted that I could hardly breathe. Doom awaited me. I knew it.

I sat in the audience section of the courtroom. Detective Anderson took the seat on my right while Detective Manning sat on my left. Mrs. Andrews took her seat at the prosecution table and we all waited for it to start.

Five minutes later, he walked in.

The moment I heard the commotion and saw the bright camera flashes, I looked down and let my long hair cover my face. I didn't want to see him and I didn't want him to see me, but I knew by the prickling all over my skin that he did see me. And he was watching me with those loathsome, calculating black eyes.

He and his team of lawyers sat down at the defendant's table. When I was sure his back was turned to me, I looked up. My palms were sweating again and I began to tug on the already loose hems of my long-sleeved shirt.

The jury was already seated. They avoided looking at me.

"Please rise for the Honorable Judge Kevin Banner."

Everyone in the courtroom stood as Judge Banner strode into the room and took his seat at the bench. When he sat down, so did everyone else. Then he turned to the jury. "Has the jury reached a verdict?" he asked ceremoniously.

The foreman stood up. "We have, your honor."

"What say you?"

The foreman pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "We the jury find the defendant, Alan Vickers, not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree."

I felt the blood rush from my face. My knees buckled underneath me and both Detectives Manning and Anderson gripped my forearms tightly to keep me from collapsing to the ground.

"Thank you," Judge Banner said to the jury. Then he turned an unconcerned face to the defendant and waved his hand. "You are free to go."

No. _No_.

As Alan Vickers exited the courtroom, he passed my seat and leaned forward. "I'm very sorry for your loss," he whispered sinisterly. Detective Manning shoved him away.

"Bella, we're not going to let him get away with this," Mrs. Andrews said the moment she reached me.

"But you can't charge him again," I said quietly. "I heard one of his lawyers talking about it—double jeopardy, right? He can't be tried for the same crime."

"Yes, but you've given us enough evidence for all his other crimes," she insisted. "We're going to get him for everything he's ever done. I _promise_, Bella—he's going to end up in prison. I'll make sure of it."

"He's going to come after me," I said. I heard my voice climb in hysteria. "He's going to kill me."

"No, he won't," Detective Manning said firmly.

"We're going to put you in witness protection," informed Detective Anderson. "He'll never find you. We'll keep you hidden until it's safe."

Under normal circumstances, I would have been indignant at the thought. I had been informed of witness protection as a possibility if Vickers got off. It meant I would have to go into hiding. I would assume a completely new identity: new name, new home, new school…everything. But I felt oddly apathetic to the idea of a new life. I didn't care that I was just leaving everything I had ever known behind. I had lost everything anyway—why not my identity as well?

"When?" I asked hoarsely.

"As soon as possible," answered Detective Manning. "We just need to get everything processed."

"We'll keep in contact with you," added Detective Anderson. "Me, Detective Manning, and Mrs. Andrews, we'll all visit you. We'll keep you informed of progress with Alan Vickers."

"And if I die?"

Detective Manning gently tucked her finger under my chin and forced my face upward. "I swear, Bella, you are not going to die. Justice will be served."

**A/N - I know that I have another story that I should be working on right now, but this story idea just kept nagging and nagging me! I wrote the prologue really fast and before I knew it, I had three more chapters finished.**

**As a general warning, this story contains a lot of violence and deals with the issues of rape and self-mutilation. In fact, it gets pretty graphic. If it's not something you can stomach, then I strongly suggest you stop reading.**

**As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. One More Day That I've Survived

**A/N - Much thanks goes to Bloody Ampersand for being the most awesome beta in the world!**

**One More Day That I've Survived**

"We really appreciate this," I heard Detective Anderson say. "Thank you so much for agreeing."

Charlie Swan nodded. "When I heard about the circumstances, I couldn't say no."

"We'll be keeping in touch with her at regular intervals," informed Detective Manning. "We've also put a wire tap on your telephones and a tracking device on her car."

"Do you have any questions for us, Chief Swan?"

He shook his head. "Not any I can think of right now."

"Okay, well if you do just ask Bella. She has our contact information."

"Will do."

The detectives turned to me. "We'll be back in a few days to see how you're adjusting," Detective Anderson told me.

I nodded.

"And remember, just give us a call if you need anything," reminded Detective Manning.

"I will."

They both shook my hand. Then they turned to shake Charlie's hand. "Stay safe."

"We will," he promised.

The detectives got into their car and sped off into the distance, leaving me with my new foster father.

"So," he began awkwardly. "I guess this is going to be your new home for a while."

I nodded.

"Do…do you need help unpacking?"

I shook my head.

"Uh, okay…well if you need anything just call me. I'll just—I'll just be in the living room. And uh, try not to go outside without telling me first."

I nodded again.

When he was gone, I began my ascent up the narrow wooden staircase. The upper floor was very dim, illuminated only by a lone light bulb in the middle of the hallway. There were no windows and even if there were, they wouldn't have made a difference. The sky outside was blanketed with steel gray clouds, refusing to let the sunshine so much as peek through. It effectively mirrored my outlook on my current situation.

I got to my room and took a look around. It was modestly furnished with a desk, a bed, and a rocking chair. The boxes and suitcases sat innocently at the foot of my bed, waiting to be opened and emptied of their contents. I found it a little sad that I managed to fit my entire existence in three boxes and two suitcases.

By the time I was finished unpacking the boxes, the room looked semi-lived in. It looked nothing like my old room in Phoenix, which was what I was going for. It was bad enough that I had brought everything that reminded me of my past life—reminiscing was the very last thing I wanted right now.

I was almost through with hanging my clothes in my closet when I heard a soft knock on the door. "Bella?" Charlie's muffled voice asked from the other side of the door. "I ordered pizza. Would you like some?"

"Yeah," I called in a voice, hoarse from disuse. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yeah. I'll be down there in a moment."

I made a quick detour to the bathroom to wash my hands before I descended the stairs and into the kitchen. Charlie was pulling silverware out of the cabinets and setting them around the pizza box sitting in the middle of the table. "I didn't know what toppings you liked, so I got everything. I hope that's all right."

I shrugged. "That's fine."

We ate in silence. I knew that Charlie was trying to find something to talk about, but I didn't feel particularly willing to help him. It struck me that he was probably used to a taciturn existence and I didn't really want to change that for him. Besides, there wasn't much to talk about. From the sounds coming from the television and the tacky singing fish on the wall, he loved sports and fishing, pastimes in which I did not share an interest. Needless to say, I was fine with not talking. In fact, it was preferable to the less silent alternative.

When we finished eating, I took our plates and started to wash them as he cleared the table. "Oh, uh, Bella?" began Charlie rather nervously as he wiped down the table. "I just wanted to let you know I'm a snorer and a really heavy sleeper. I hope that doesn't bother you."

I shook my head, but kept my eyes on the sudsy plates in my hands. "No, it won't. I'm prone to night terrors and I scream in my sleep."

His reaction must have been surprised and uncomfortable; I wasn't exactly sure because I refused to look up from the sink, but after a lengthy pause, he replied with, "Oh. Okay." Then I heard his footsteps get progressively softer as he walked away.

When I was finished with the dishes, I wiped my hands and retired to my room to finish putting my clothes away. The work was finished quickly and I was left with nothing else to do. So I pulled my window blinds wide open, turned off my lights, and dragged the rocking chair next to the window. I curled up on the worn cushions and stared out into the cloudy night with my chin on my knees.

My body was exhausted; I hadn't slept well at all for the past three months, but I was reluctant to close my eyes. I knew the moment they did, the nightmares would descend.

Sometimes, I just wished Alan Vickers would kill me already. I didn't see any reason in living anymore; everything of importance was taken from me that fateful night three months ago. I could find no escape from the emptiness: I didn't have anyone to talk to, I didn't have any hobbies to lose myself in and my favorite pastimes had lost their entertainment value for me. And sleep was no longer an option. I was reduced to nothing more than an empty shell, left to reclaim a shattered lifestyle.

Julia Andrews, Detectives Manning and Anderson…they all worked so hard to keep me alive. And Charlie was risking a lot to take me in. I felt so grateful to them, more than I could ever express for protecting me. But I often felt unworthy of their concern. Their efforts were wasted on me, because I certainly didn't deserve it.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed there, staring out the window. It must have been quite a while because when I finally pulled myself from my deep musings, I heard Charlie snoring across the hall in the other room.

Unfortunately and completely against my will, sleep began to take me as well. I struggled against my heavy eyelids, but my body overruled my scared subconscious and drifted into a very deep slumber.

_Raindrops served as the soundtrack of the dream. The rhythmic beats echoed through the room as each drop of water fell from the sky. I could feel the ripples vibrate in my skin, setting my heartbeat in a similar pattern. My breathing came out harsh and ragged as air filled my lungs and dragged out again. I couldn't see anything in that dark, but I could feel it. I felt the dread pouring down on me with each drop._

"_Bella," my mother whispered fearfully. She was suddenly crouching right next to me in that dark, tiny space. The rain continued to beat on my skin. "Whatever you do, do _not_ make a sound. Do you understand me? Just close your eyes and your ears and the first chance you get, run."_

"_But—"_

"_No buts!" she insisted. "Run as fast as you can and don't look back. Here." I felt cold hands force my trembling fingers open and she pushed something small and hard in the palm of my hand. "Take my cell phone. I'll call you when it's safe."_

_But we both knew she wouldn't call._

_Suddenly her hands around mine were much larger and warmer. The rain beat down harder._

"_Bella…Isabella," a throaty voice whispered. I felt hot breath on my wet skin and I shivered at the unpleasant sensation. "There you are. I've missed you."_

_My hand tightened around the cell phone only to feel it disappear in my palm. My fingers closed around empty air and his hands were suddenly surrounding my face. "So beautiful…so smooth and soft…" the voice continued. "I wonder…"_

_Suddenly a pair of chapped lips found mine as rough skin grated against my cheeks. A tongue forced its way into my mouth and it searched around, marking every part it could reach as its own._

"_You're mine," he whispered when he finally pulled away. Then he dropped my face._

_I felt a sharp blow to the stomach and I cried out in pain._

"_That's right," the voice laughed. "Let me hear you scream."_

_His fist connected with my cheek and I felt the bones shatter with the force of the hit. Tears streamed down my eyes and my throat burned with the muffled scream that desperately tried to escape. Rough hands found their way to the zipper of my jeans._

"_Scream, baby. Scream for me."_

"_Please, stop!" I shouted. I was soaked, shivering, and in pain. Why wouldn't he stop?_

_His hands gripped the top of my shoulders and threw me into the ground. I fell on my shoulder and I felt the bone pop out of the socket. I yelled in agony, but the pain didn't go away._

_Then he yanked me by the hair and whispered in my ear, "You're mine. Forever."_

"NO!"

My eyes flew open and the dream quickly dissolved. The rocking chair continued to sway gently from the force of my sudden movement, which helped calm my erratic heartbeat. My breaths became less ragged and eventually slowed to a steady pattern.

When I was calm, I realized that the snoring in the other room had faltered. With a sigh, I realized that I had woken Charlie. I would have to find a way to soundproof this room. I didn't want to wake him up in the middle of the night for something as silly as a nightmare.

I glanced over at the clock. The red digital numbers said it was one o'clock in the morning and I had no desire to go back to sleep, so I curled back in the chair and continued to stare out the window. I found that after staring at one point for a long time, my mind would drift and I would find a point of complete numbness. I felt nothing: no pain, no joy, no anger…nothing.

At six o'clock, my alarm clock screeched, knocking me out of my numbed state. Slowly, carefully, I uncurled my stiff limbs and walked to my bedside table to stop the incessant nagging. Then I began the arduous process of getting ready for school.

For the past three months, routine had been my friend. Routine ensured I didn't have to remember anything. I could just concentrate on my actions, my movements and never have to think once about the things that mattered the most. I thought through everything I did that morning: I removed my clothes, I turned on the water, I squeezed a handful of shampoo and washed my hair. Each scrub was careful, each stroke was calculated. I absorbed myself in everything to avoid everything else. It was an extension of my numbed state.

When I was dressed, I slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Charlie was already there, sitting at the table and chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of Cheerios.

My presence startled him. He wasn't used to company so early in the morning. "Oh, uh…good morning, Bella."

"Good morning," I said quietly.

"I don't have very much breakfast food," he admitted. "All I've got is Cheerios. I hope you don't mind."

I shook my head. "I don't." I reached into the cabinets and pulled out a bowl and poured my breakfast. They were bland and flavorless and they were perfect for so early in the morning.

"Are you excited for school?" he asked when I sat down.

I shrugged.

"You shouldn't worry about the kids," he continued, grasping at the subject to dispel the awkward silence. "They're really nice. They're friendly and they don't get into trouble, not like kids from the cities. Not that I'm saying that all kids in the cities get in trouble," he quickly amended, remembering that I came from a city. "They're just regular kids."

I nodded.

"So you'll probably make friends real fast."

I truly doubted that.

Charlie waited for me to finish my meal before he left. We both departed the driveway at the same time and he waved goodbye before he sped off in the distance. He took his duty very seriously, and I felt guilty at my apathetic attitude to my own survival.

With a sigh, I stuck the key into the ignition of the used truck the state had given me and turned. My hand held the directions to the school, though they consisted only of two sentences. It must not have been very far, which disconcerted me. I was used to having to drive everywhere.

In less than ten minutes I had pulled into the school parking lot. I wasn't even completely sure it could be _called_ a school; it just looked like a conglomeration of mismatched buildings. But once I found the main office, everything fell into place. The parking lot surrounded it, so I found a parking spot as close to the building as I could to avoid walking in the rain for too long.

The interior of the main office building was warm and comforting, a sharp contrast to the weather outside. The room was filled with desks, telephones, and potted plants. As if there wasn't enough greenery outside.

"Hello, miss?" a plump woman behind the main counter called to me. She wore a pink t-shirt that clashed with her frizzy red hair, but her face bore a comforting smile. "May I help you?"

I walked closer to the main counter. I had to stand on my tiptoes to see over the mass of disorganized papers on the flat surface. "I'm Isabella Dw—Swan. I'm new."

"Oh, yes!" the receptionist cried as recognition flashed in her eyes. "We've been expecting you." Then she started searching through a teetering pile of loose paper and pulled out several sheets. "Here we have your schedule, a map of the school and a slip for all of your teachers to sign, so please return that at the end of the day. I highlighted the quickest routes to your classes. If you still have trouble, don't hesitate to ask one of your fellow classmates. They'll be happy to help."

I nodded. "Thank you," I said as I took the papers from her. I folded the papers and stuffed them in my pocket. Then I exited the building.

_Remember that your last name is Swan now_, I mentally chided myself as I swiftly walked through the rain. _Swan…you are a Swan._

When I was safely under the nearest overhang, I pulled out my schedule and map to find my first class. Trigonometry…well, that would distract me nicely.

The morning passed in a numb haze. Charlie and the receptionist were right; my fellow classmates were willing to help me in any way they could, even though I never asked for their assistance. The males especially seemed eager to lend a helping hand to a building that was adjacent to the one I was leaving. I hoped they realized that I was in no mood to form attachments with them. If they were looking for any sort of romantic involvement, they had best look elsewhere.

They even tried to get me at lunch. Mike Newton, one of my new acquaintances, insisted that I sit with him and his friends, but I shook my head. After I paid for my lunch, I strode to the far end of the cafeteria and sat at the table closest to the window. Here, I finally found a reprieve from my sudden claustrophobic existence. The moment I got to Forks, I was surrounded by people. I could never find a moment to simply be alone, not even in the moments I had in Charlie's house. The walls were much too thin to have a moment truly to myself. And though I was in a roomful of boisterous teenagers, I at least had a moment where no one was paying attention to me.

Suddenly, my skin crawled—it was a sensation felt only when someone was watching me. I looked up from my sandwich and scanned the crowded cafeteria. My eyes finally landed on a pair of black, fathomless eyes. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Quickly, I turned away and brought my knees up to my chest in that tiny chair. That moment had brought the memories back; they came rushing in an overwhelming deluge and the festering hole in my chest ripped wide open. I clutched my sides in desperation, as if trying to physically keep myself together. The pain of it all was just too unbearable.

My skin crawled again and pangs started to beat against me. My heart pounded in my chest and my limbs began to shake. I forced my eyes closed and pressed my forehead against my knees, but it wouldn't go away. This gnawing, aching, terrified feeling continued to tear at my insides, ripping what was left of my heart to shreds.

I remained in that position until the numbed feeling slowly began to course through me once again. When the hole inside me stopped throbbing, I released my legs and let them fall to the ground. Lucky for me, the bell rang at that moment. Without another thought, I stood and threw away my hardly-touched lunch and strode out of the cafeteria before my overly-friendly classmates could insist on walking me to my next class.

Biology wasn't so far away; I reached the building with two minutes to spare. Mr. Banner's desk was right in front of the door, so I approached him and handed him my slip. He signed it without ceremony, glanced quickly at the room and pointed me to the empty spot in the middle.

When he handed my slip back, I approached the empty stool and took a seat. Soon after I settled, I saw a pale white hand in the corner of my eye and I looked up.

Sitting directly next to me was the most beautiful, most magnificent specimen of a male I had ever laid eyes on. His features seemed to be chiseled into the most unblemished of white marble by the angels themselves and his hair was the color of the Phoenix sky when the sun set. But his eyes were the same fathomless black pits I had caught staring at me during lunch.

When we saw each other, our faces froze. His expression quickly morphed into one of horror and contempt, while mine merely shut down. I could feel the hole start to throb once more.

_No,_ I thought desperately to myself, _not again. Not again_.

The bell rang and I turned my attention to the front where Mr. Banner was beginning the lecture. I knew his eyes were still on me; the goose bumps on my skin tingled and my lungs constricted. My breaths were harsh and ragged as I struggled to get enough oxygen.

Finally, it was too much. I leapt to my feet. "Mr. Banner," I rasped desperately, "I don't feel well. May I go to the nurse's office?"

He blinked once in confusion, then nodded. "Yes, Miss Swan. Be sure to get the homework assignment from a classmate."

I nodded, then quickly gathered my things and left the room. I didn't glance back once at the living god who sat next to me. I just wanted to get away from those eyes.

For once, I welcomed the constant cold and moisture. It settled against my overheated face and helped to settle my raging insides. The hole in my chest still ached, so I slowly walked to the main office building with my arms wrapped around myself.

When I finally got to the main building, the receptionist from this morning looked up with a confused expression on her face. "Miss Swan? Are you alright?"

"I need to visit the nurse," I whispered quietly. "Where is she?"

She pointed to the door on her right and I strode in quickly.

The nurse looked up and gasped when she saw me. I must have looked absolutely terrible because she immediately stood and led me to the nearest chair. "My dear, are you all right?"

"No," I immediately replied.

"What happened?"

"I can't breathe," I rasped. My lungs were still constricted.

The nurse immediately handed me a brown paper bag and instructed me to hold the opening over my mouth and breathe in and out as deeply as I could. I did as she told me and my breathing slowed and steadied. When my heart stopped pounding, I realized to my horror that I had been crying. The traitorous tears streamed down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away before anyone else could see them.

"Miss Swan?" asked the nurse tentatively. "How do you feel now?"

My breathing had slowed, but my chest still ached in pain. "Terribly," I replied quietly.

She nodded sympathetically. "I think you should go home and get some rest. You must have suffered a panic attack. Poor dear, it's only your first day here. It will get better." She gave me a reassuring smile and walked to her desk to write me a pass. When she was finished, she gave it to me to give to the receptionist. I stood to leave and gave her my thanks and she in turn offered her hopes that I get better soon.

I left the nurse's office and handed the receptionist the pass and the slip my teachers were supposed to sign. The woman glanced down at it and clucked sympathetically. "Okay. I'll just keep this slip and tomorrow morning you can come here to get it so Coach Clapp can sign. I hope you feel better."

That was an impossibility, but I smiled briefly before turning to leave. No need to divulge the gory details.

When I got back to Charlie's house, I despaired to realize that I was alone. I needed something to do, something to occupy my time until Charlie came back. I couldn't just sit still, otherwise I would dwell on this empty feeling and I would completely break down. Breaking down was not an option at this point.

Finally, I decided to cook. Charlie didn't seem to be much of a homebody and the cabinets and refrigerator were empty of any food that wasn't instant macaroni. So I found a jar of cash labeled "Food Money", got into the car and drove to the nearest grocery store.

When I got back, the house was still empty, so I unpacked the bags and began on dinner. As I waited for the potatoes to bake, I sat at the kitchen table and did my homework. Aside from trigonometry, it did little to occupy my mind and I found myself thinking about forbidden topics and remembering things I had worked so hard to suppress.

Around five o'clock, Charlie came back. "Bella?" he called. He found me in the kitchen.

"I went to the grocery store and started dinner," I informed him as I started to put away my homework. "I used the money in the cabinet. I hope you don't mind."

He quickly wiped the bewildered look off his face. "Uh, no, I don't mind. Smells good…what are you making?"

"Steak and potatoes," I replied.

He nodded in appreciation. "Thanks." He must have felt awkward standing there, so he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and went into the living room.

Cooking was an effective distraction; I hadn't been able to cook for three months, so I didn't know how much refuge it could give me. Hopefully my food was good enough to let me keep this up.

Twenty minutes later, dinner was served. Charlie warily took a bite, but his suspicious expression immediately cleared up with the first bite. "This is really good, Bella."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't mind turning over the kitchen to you while you're here. That is, if you want to keep cooking."

"That's fine."

The rest of dinner was quiet, but it wasn't the kind of awkward silence that seemed to invade most of our meals. It was a contented silence, without expectation.

"So how was school today? Did you make any friends?"

I shrugged.

When he realized that this was the most I was going to give him, he went back to his meal. I washed the dishes after we finished eating and we each retreated to our corners of the house: Charlie to his living room and me to my room.

I finished the rest of my homework and looked around desperately for something to distract me. Finding nothing, I turned off the lights and curled up in the worn cushions of the rocking chair. I stared out the window once again and quickly found that point, that state where I felt nothing.

I suppose I should have felt grateful; people went to great lengths to numb themselves. Some people spent small fortunes on stupor-inducing drugs, some people found comfort in bottles of bitter alcohol. Some people even sliced their wrists open just to escape the realities of their existence. All I had to do was think about what I was doing and stare out a window to reach that state.

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that I was never really mentally in synch with anyone. I felt like my mind was always on a different plane with everyone else. I could never relate to anyone, not even those closest to me. And there I sat, staring at the endless dark, devoid of all emotion—just as I wanted.

**A/N - Please review!**


	3. Another Night Alone

**Another Night Alone**

The next day, fewer people approached me. My classmates began to realize that I was unwilling to socialize with them, so they left me alone. Mike Newton, in a last ditch effort to be my friend, once again offered his table during lunch but I declined and took my spot by the window just like yesterday. This time, I kept my eyes on my lunch and didn't look up even though my skin crawled with the sensation of someone watching me the entire time. I knew that if I looked up I would hurtle head first in the dark pits of that angel's eyes and I didn't think I would escape so easily again.

On the walk to biology, my stomach churned uneasily. I thought very seriously about ditching, but I decided against it. If I skipped class, word would have gotten to Charlie and he would have told the detectives. I didn't need that.

I walked into the classroom and was relieved to find that I had gotten there first. I quickly sat down and pulled out my notebook, this time completely determined to avoid the person who sat next to me.

Minutes later, I heard the stool next to scrape against the tile. After my lab partner had taken his seat, Mr. Banner came around with a box and a microscope and set them on our table. Inwardly, I groaned; it must have been a lab.

When Mr. Banner was finished explaining the purpose of the exercise, I heard a velvety smooth voice come from my left. "Hello. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself yesterday; my name is Edward Cullen. You must be Bella Swan."

I couldn't help it. I looked up and what I saw distinctly shocked me.

Instead of reeling in shock and pain from looking into identically black, fathomless pits like I expected to, I stared into a pair of dark gold eyes. They were the color of bright topazes, brilliantly faceted and deep as oceans. He was smiling at me, and I felt my heart pump faster at the beauty in his face.

"Hi," I murmured when I finally returned to my senses. Without another word, I reached for the first slide and put it under the microscope. The sooner we finished this lab, the sooner I could stop talking to him.

We breezed through the exercise rapidly, never second guessing our findings. I had done the lab once before and Edward must have been a genius or something because he looked through the lens much more quickly than I did. Mr. Banner came by to check our work and grudgingly nodded before continuing his patrol of the other lab groups.

_Oh no,_ I thought to myself, slightly panicked. _There's nothing else to do_.

"So how do you like Forks?" I heard my lab partner ask. I wanted to groan; I really hated small talk.

"It's fine," I replied shortly. Maybe if I kept my answers abrupt, he would stop trying to talk to me. It worked with everyone else in this town so far.

Unfortunately, I greatly underestimated Mr. Cullen. "You hate it." I heard a smile in his voice.

I made the mistake of looking up once again. While I didn't exactly fall into a pit of unwanted memories and emotions like I did when his eyes were black, I was somehow sucked in. He absorbed me, and I started talking against my will. "I don't hate it. It's just different."

"Different from…?"

"Phoenix."

He raised his ginger brow in a questioning expression. "Why would someone from Phoenix choose to move to Forks?"

"My mother and father are traveling abroad, so I'm living with my Uncle Charlie," I said automatically. "I didn't really have much of a choice."

He frowned and I felt a vague sense of panic. "Why didn't they take you with them?"

"They wanted me to finish my education in the States," I replied.

Edward rolled his eyes jokingly. "Yes, because the United States is known for its stellar education program."

I felt the corners of my mouth lift upward involuntarily, but I didn't say anything further. Instead I turned my gaze to the light blue lines on my notebook.

"How do you like the school?" he suddenly asked.

I sighed. It looked like I was going to have to be a little blunt.

"You don't have to do this," I said very bluntly, staring him in the eyes and willing myself not to notice his immense beauty.

Genuine confusion crossed his face. "Do what?"

"Make small talk. I know you're just doing this to be polite, but I'd prefer it if you didn't."

He cocked his head to the side like a child. "Why?"

Lucky for me, Mr. Banner made his way back to the front of the room and started to explain the lab. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out my notebook, taking careful notes at everything he said, though I already knew everything. My skin started to prickle and I knew Edward Cullen was staring at me once again.

I bit my lip to keep from sighing. What was his fascination with me, anyway? Why couldn't he just leave me alone, like the rest of this stupid town? They all got the hint.

When the bell finally rang, I stuffed my books in my backpack as quickly as I could and strode out the door. Edward, however, appeared next to me, keeping up with my brisk pace easily. "You never answered my question," he pointed out.

I was dangerously close to actually feeling something, so I stopped and breathed. "I hate small talk," I said simply. "It's pointless and shallow. Small talk never gets past the surface."

His golden eyes narrowed. "Fine. Then why don't you tell why you're really here?"

My stomach fell to the ground. "What do you mean?"

"You were lying earlier," he accused. "You were lying when you said that your parents were traveling abroad. Why are you really here?"

"I wasn't lying," I said defensively.

"Yes, you were. Your answer was too quick and you couldn't look me in the eyes when you said it. Why are you lying about why you're here? What are you hiding?"

Anger coursed through me and my insides ripped wide open. "Why do you care?" I demanded, ignoring the slowly worsening ache. Geez, I barely knew Edward but he was already causing so much pain.

He paused, his face suddenly unsure. "I'm not sure," he whispered.

"Then why don't you _stop_, and leave me alone." And before he could say anything else, I turned on my heel and ran to gym. I was already late and I missed class yesterday. I couldn't risk my reputation with the school so early in the year.

For once in my life, physical education was actually helpful. The anger that threatened to widen the already broad gap in my insides was instead transferred to the hapless volleyball we played with. Granted, I wasn't a very talented player, but I was at least forceful. We had to switch out balls in the middle of the game because the brand-new one we were playing with already started to deflate.

By the end of gym, I was sweaty and tired, but blissfully numb. Perhaps I was too quick when dismissing volleyball as a useless skill. It helped me regain my sanity.

When I got back to the house, a dark blue car with tinted windows was already parked in the driveway. I watched it wearily for a moment, but Detectives Manning and Anderson emerged with someone I had never seen before when they saw my truck.

"Hey, Bella," Manning called. I climbed out of my truck and approached them. "We're just coming to check up on you. How have you been?"

"Fine."

They chuckled. "May we come in?"

I shrugged. "Sure." They followed me up the front porch and I unlocked the door. I crossed the threshold of the house and left the door open for them.

"So you started school yesterday, huh?" asked Anderson.

I nodded.

"How do you like it here?" Manning inquired.

I shrugged again. "It's fine."

The realized I wasn't going to say anything else, so they turned to their companion. "Bella, this is Dr. Levsky," Manning told me. "He's a psychiatric consult for the FBI and he's willing to listen to you if you want."

"Hello, Bella," he said with a warm smile. Dr. Levsky seemed nice enough—there wasn't anything particularly suspicious about him. "I was wondering if we could go somewhere and just talk."

I shrugged. If he was willing to waste his time, then that was his prerogative.

"We'll be taking a look at the perimeter around the house," Anderson informed me. "We're just going to make sure it's safe."

"Don't hesitate to call us if you need us," Manning added.

I nodded and with that, they left the house leaving me with the shrink.

"Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?" he asked.

Wordlessly, I turned and led him to the small living room. It was the first time I had ever been in this room—I tried to avoid coming here as much as possible, since Charlie spent as much time here in front of the television as he could.

I took a seat on the couch and he took the armchair. We sat in silence for a little while until Dr. Levsky took it upon himself to break the ice. "Do you like it in Forks?"

I shrugged.

"Have you made any friends at school?"

I shook my head. Friends were not an option at this point.

"Why not?"

I shrugged again. "I don't want any."

"Why's that?"

I quickly came to a conclusion; the sooner I talked, the sooner he would leave. "What's the point? I'm not going to be staying here for much longer."

"So you don't want to form any attachments in a situation you think is temporary?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

He paused for a moment. "Bella, Detectives Manning and Anderson told me that you're much quieter than you were when they first met you. Why is that?"

I shrugged once more. "Nothing much to talk about."

He frowned. "Your parents—"

"Don't," I interrupted. The mere mention of my parents ripped through me like a gutting knife. "Don't talk about them."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about them."

Dr. Levsky sighed. "Your parents passed away," he stated, as if I didn't know. For the second time that afternoon anger coursed through me, but this time I was positively livid.

"They didn't pass away—they were murdered," I growled.

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes!" I shouted. "There is a difference! Passed away is what you say when someone dies in their sleep. Murder is when someone _takes_ someone else's life! My parents had their lives stolen from them!"

"You're angry," he stated.

"Of course I'm angry!" I screamed. There was no going back now—I was talking and the emotions were flowing, and the knife in my gut was slowly twisting. It would take hours for me to get back to that numbed state.

"But why are you angry?"

"Because that bastard Alan Vickers killed my parents!" How could this guy be a doctor? Weren't shrinks supposed to be smart?

"Is that really why you're angry?" he asked quietly. "Or is there something else?"

I huffed. "Why would there be something else?"

"Can you take me through it, Bella? Can you tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I already told you I didn't want to talk about it! God, what is it with you people? Why don't you ever listen? Can't you understand that it hurts? It fucking hurts!"

"Bella, the sooner you face this, the sooner you can heal."

"NO! I don't want to face this! Just leave it alone!"

"That numbed feeling will only hurt you in the end," Dr. Levsky insisted. "You've been keeping to yourself, you've been quiet to keep yourself from feeling anything, but in the end you're only hurting yourself more! You can't heal until you face this pain!"

"If I had to choose between the pain and the numbness, I'd choose the numbness in a second," I said coldly. "I'm better off feeling nothing."

"Bella, can't you see? The pain you feel shows that you're alive, that you're still human. Don't run from it, embrace it!"

"SHUT UP!" I jumped up from my seat. I couldn't take him anymore. "Get out of this house! Just get out!"

Dr. Levsky sighed, but stood slowly. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card. "If you ever need to talk, Bella, don't be afraid to call me," he said as he dropped the card on the coffee table. "When Detectives Anderson and Manning come back to check on you, I'll come with them. I really want to help you."

"If you really want to help, then get out," I hissed through a clenched jaw. "Tell the detectives thank you for me."

He nodded. "Goodbye, Bella." Then he strode out of the living room and out the door. I slammed it shut behind him and locked it tight.

Several minutes later, I heard the car pull out of the driveway and I ran up the staircase to get to my room. The minute I reached the door, I flung it open and shut it again just as forcefully, launching myself into that rocking chair. Tears were streaming down my face, and I curled up tightly in an attempt to force the torn edges of the hole together. My body physically ached and my heart throbbed in my chest, as if someone had just wrapped their fingers around it and squeezed as hard as they could.

I pressed my forehead against my knees and forced myself to breathe deeply. _How could this possibly be healthy?_ I asked myself. This pain, this never ending pain was what made me human? Then I didn't want to be human anymore. I would have traded absolutely everything just to make this ache inside my soul go away.

Soon enough my tears dried, and though my chest still ached, I was controlled enough to move, at the very least. So I slowly descended the stairs to start on dinner before Charlie got home.

I decided to make something simple—after that surprise visit from Dr. Levsky, I wasn't exactly in the best shape to handle anything dangerous, like knives or stoves. So I threw together a quick lasagna with an accompanying salad and garlic bread.

Charlie got home just as I was pulling the garlic bread out of the oven. He sniffed the air appreciatively. "Smells really good, Bella," he said with a smile.

I nodded, but said nothing. I had far surpassed my speaking quota for the day; as far as I was concerned, I didn't have to talk until next week.

After dinner, I followed my newly established routine: homework, then staring out the window. I hadn't slept in the past forty-eight hours, but no matter how exhausted I was (both physically and emotionally) I couldn't let myself fall asleep. Doom was all that awaited me in sleep and I knew my subconscious wanted revenge, since I had managed to escape it for the past two nights.

Unfortunately, my body wouldn't listen to reason. I struggled, fought, raged against my drooping eyelids, but against my will they fell over my tired eyes and my body immediately shut down.

"_Bella," I heard a voice whisper. "Bella, wake up."_

_I couldn't wake up. I knew what would happen if I did. I tried to feign sleep a little while longer, but a cold, hard hand slapped smartly across my face._

"_Wake up," the voice demanded._

_I winced at the cold tone, knowing I could no longer pretend. So I reluctantly opened my eyelids; the light in that room was much too dim to see anything properly, which in hindsight was a good thing. If it had proper lighting, the nightmares would have been worse._

_My companion stood in the shadows with a rope in his hand. At that moment, I no longer felt fear for what would happen to me…I just wanted to die._

"_I hope you can scream louder for me tonight, baby," the throaty voice murmured in my ear. "I was a little disappointed last night, so I better be able to hear you this time."_

_My skin crawled where his breath touched me. I felt dirty, unclean…I wanted nothing more than to leave and take a shower, but my body was too sore. I could hardly move._

_A pair of sudden, rough hands grabbed my sides and started stroking the sensitive skin. Struggling was pointless—not only was I too weak, but squirming would give the wrong impression. He would think that I liked it and he would move on to much worse actions. I wanted to withhold that moment as long as possible. Despite my apathy, I still had a small inkling of self-preservation._

"_Oh, Bella," the voice whispered, "you're so soft…so beautiful. So delicate and lovely…and you're mine. You're all mine."_

_I couldn't even struggle against the chains that kept me to the bed posts because my shoulders were dislocated. My wrists itched and ached from the heavy iron, and the skin chafed. In addition, my blood wasn't properly circulating to my arms, having been in that position for much too long._

_My companion left the room, but I knew better than to hope. Seconds later he returned with something black in his hand. What little blood remained in my face immediately left it; my insides turned to ice and my heart thumped inhumanly hard. When would this end? When would this torture end?_

_Could no one but this monster hear my cries?_

_In one swift moment, he was at my side and he threw the black bag he held in his hand over my head. He held the opening tightly against my throat, cutting off my oxygen supply._

"_Scream!" he shouted. "Scream!"_

_I couldn't scream. I couldn't even breathe._

_When he realized that I wasn't complying, he punched me through the cloth. I wailed, but it was muffled by my choking throat and the black material pressed over my face. He punched me in my stomach, and this time I let out an all mighty yell. My throat swelled and released the bag's tight hold over it, which allowed fresh air to briefly enter. I swallowed greedily, hoping to get as much as I could before it was gone once again._

_It turned out, I didn't have to. My torturer ripped the bag off my head and grabbed a handful of my hair. He brought his face lower to mine and I registered his contorted face in my blurry eyesight. "When I tell you to do something, bitch, you'll do it!" He punched my face once again, agitating my already swollen jaw._

_His black eyes bore into mine and my skin tingled. How I wanted to die…_

_With a sinister smile, he released his hold of my hair and pulled out the rope. "I'll show you what real pain is, baby," he whispered lovingly now. "I promise you'll like it."_

"_No!" I managed to shout. "Please, please stop!"_

"_Bitch!" he roared as he whipped my bare chest with the rope. I cried out in pain. "Don't scream until I tell you to!"_

"_Please, stop!" I continued to yell. "Stop, just stop!"_

_He uncoiled the full length of the rope and tied it around my neck._

"_STOP!"_

"_Just let go, baby," he whispered. "Enjoy yourself."_

"_NO!"_

I hurtled forward out of the rocking chair, only to find my bedroom light on and Charlie standing next to me with a worried expression on his face. "Bella! Bella, are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

I clutched at my throat to make sure the rope was not around my neck. Then my stomach convulsed and I ran to the bathroom before I emptied its contents all over the room. Luckily I managed to get to the toilet in time. I heaved and I vomited what little I had to eat that day. I heaved and heaved until there was nothing left inside of me. Charlie was in the bathroom soon after me, holding back my hair.

When I was finished, I lifted my head from the toilet bowl and leaned my head against the wall. "Thank you, Charlie," I said hoarsely.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice and facial expression completely concerned.

I nodded and slowly tried to get up. "I'll be fine," I promised. "I'm sorry that I woke you up."

His eyes weren't convinced. "Bella…" He hesitated. "Bella, if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here. You can always talk to me, you know."

Not likely. "Thank you, Charlie," I repeated. "You should get back to bed."

When he was certain that I wasn't going to start throwing up again, I washed the rancid taste of vomit from my mouth and went back to my room. I sighed wearily the moment my butt touched the chair. How much pain would I be forced to suffer? How many times would I have to relive the events of the past? When would this end?

I pressed my knees against my chest and sighed. To my horror, several lone tears still left over from this afternoon escaped their prison and rolled down my cheeks. I was just so tired.

I leaned back and leaned forward quickly to set the rocking chair in motion. I was so tired of this existence. I was ready for the end.

Something white peeked in the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw the tiny little business card Dr. Levsky had left me. I uncurled my limbs and reached for the card. One side had his name, his address, his email and his phone number and a picture of a crane on it. On the other side, Dr. Levsky had scrawled something in a slanted, small but even script.

_Bella,_

_Don't be afraid to lean others for support. People offer their shoulders in hopes that they will be used. We can't always get up on our own—we need friends to help us out. Reach out to someone here. You won't be sorry that you did._

_My phone is always on._

_Dr. Levsky_

Something swelled inside of me; it felt like despair. It was all very nice for the good doctor to say that if I reached out, people would be more than willing to help me through this, but he didn't know the extent of the damage. I was broken beyond repair…there was really no point in trying to glue the pieces back together, because it was already too late.

Suddenly, I wondered how the card got up here. The last I remembered, I didn't even touch it after Dr. Levsky left it on the table. I shrugged and simply blamed Charlie—he must have left it in my room while he was in here. I opened the drawer in my bedside table and threw it in there. Then I curled up once again in that old rocking chair, ignoring the peculiar tingles that crawled across my skin.

**A/N - Wow, you guys! This story is getting a phenomenal response and I'm blown away! I really appreciate the reviews, so keep it up!**

**Please keep in mind that this story really isn't for the faint of stomach and/or heart. I'm really not kidding when I say that this story has angst up the wazoo, so if you can't handle it, I sincerely suggest that you stop reading.**


	4. Pay No Mind, I'm Doing Fine

**A/N - I feel obligated once again to remind everyone that this story contains MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF ANGST, this chapter in particular. If you can't handle it, I sincerely suggest you stop reading.**

**Pay No Mind, I'm Doing Fine**

"Bella, are you sure you're fine?" Charlie asked once more before he climbed into his police cruiser. "Do you want to skip school for today? I can call the school and I can call in work, tell them that you're not feeling very well."

I shook my head. "I really am okay," I insisted. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the day in my room, staring out the window and fighting off sleep. At least when I was out of the house, I had a better chance at battling my fatigue.

"If you're sure…" he trailed off uncertainly.

But I nodded as convincingly as I could. "You go," I gestured. "Go, I'll be fine."

He bit his lip, but against his will, he climbed into his car and drove off. A moment later, I locked the door behind me and walked to my truck. I stared apathetically at the icy roads; I had never driven in this kind of weather before, but how hard could it be? People in Minnesota did this every day.

I got to school with no incident, feeling a small sense of pride and victory. Not only had I convinced Charlie that I was fine, but I managed drive on the frozen roads without killing anyone. That warranted a pat on the back at least.

At school, no one approached me, which greatly relieved me. From this day on, I was sure that my classmates would take the hint and leave me alone.

Biology, however, was a different story. The minute I took my seat, my flesh rose with goose bumps. Edward Cullen was once again staring at me.

"Good afternoon, Bella," he said softly. I nodded to show that I heard him, but I said nothing in return. I was determined to ignore him today. He sighed softly, but made no more attempts to get me to speak to him.

Minutes later Mr. Banner started to roll in a huge audio/visual frame with an outdated television and a VCR. All around me, the class was exuberant; watching a movie meant that it was a break from having to take notes.

The lights turned off once the movie started. Immediately, my eyes started to droop heavily. I leaned forward on my desk and rested my chin on my forearms, my mind slowly melting into unconsciousness.

_Suddenly, I was no longer in that classroom. I was lying in a hospital bed quickly waking up. A nurse stood at the foot of my bed, reading the machines and taking note of their readings on my chart. Then she realized that I was awake. "Miss Dwyer," she sighed in relief. "You're awake."_

_I struggled to shake my head of the fog that floated around, but it clung to my brain. I realized faintly that they may have put me on some sort of painkiller. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked in a muffled voice. I suddenly realized that there was a large bandage wound around my chin and jaw, making it impossible for me to speak properly._

_She smiled sadly. "Six days," the nurse replied. "Dr. Porter was afraid that you wouldn't wake up. You've definitely sustained a lot of head trauma."_

_Just then, someone's head peeked in through my door. "Miss Dwyer," he said happily when he realized I was awake. He entered the room and strode to my bedside. "How do you feel?" he asked as he pulled out a pen light from the pocket of his white lab coat and flashed it in my eyes._

"_Sore," I replied._

_His eyes softened in sympathy. "You went through hell. I'm not surprised."_

_As he examined me, everything started to come back. Images began to flood my mind's eye, grisly, terrifying images. But the only thing I didn't remember was how it all ended. "What happened?" I asked. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember was…" I swallowed. "The last thing I remember was…him…tying a rope around my neck."_

_The doctor who was examining me clenched his jaw. "He squeezed that rope really tightly, so tight that you passed out from lack of oxygen," he said in a measured voice. "Someone passing by heard you screaming and they called the police. The paramedics came with them and when they found you, they thought they were too late."_

_I swallowed hard. They almost were._

_When he was finished with his examination, he took the chart from the nurse and wrote something down. "We had to perform emergency surgery while you were unconscious, Miss Dwyer. You had several broken ribs, a broken jaw, and internal bleeding. Luckily we managed to stop the bleeding before it got too far and we set your ribs. Our head of plastic surgery, Dr. Mackenzie, did some reconstructive surgery to set your jaw, so your speech is going to be a little muddled for a while. Your head sustained significant trauma and it started bleeding, but Dr. Porter managed to stem that. In addition, both your shoulders had popped out of your sockets, so our orthopedic surgeons popped it back in for you. You managed to pull through everything very admirably. We're going to keep you here for observations, but I think you're going to make a full recovery."_

_My relief only lasted for a moment. "What about my parents?" I demanded. "How are they?"_

_The nurse's eyes started glistening and I had my answer before she even said anything._

"_Miss Dwyer," the doctor began gently, "the paramedics didn't find them until much later. By the time we found them, it was too late. They were already dead."_

_My throat swelled. "No…" I whispered._

"_I'm very sorry," he said, a sad smile on his face._

"_No!"_

"Miss Swan!"

I started. The hospital quickly dissolved and left the darkened biology classroom behind. The light from the television illuminated Mr. Banner's disapproving expression. Around me, my classmates snickered at my folly of having fallen asleep.

"Miss Swan, if you are incapable of paying attention during class, may I suggest the principal's office? I'm sure that would hold your attention quite nicely." The class snickered again.

I shook my head quickly, trying to still my trembling fingers. "No, Mr. Banner," I said shakily. "I'm sorry, I'll pay attention." To my horror, my cheeks were wet. I raised my shaking hands to wipe away the moisture.

Beside me, I felt Edward Cullen's gaze drill into my skin. In my moment of weakness, I turned my head and stared back. Immediately, I wished I hadn't.

His ocher stare was intense, his ginger brows furrowed in concern. His expression demanded the truth without saying a single word and my already weakened defenses shattered at the sight of his powerful expression. I turned my gaze back to the movie, hoping to hide my tears from his scrutiny and also hoping to prevent myself from bursting into hysterical sobs.

When the bell rang, I quickly stuffed my things into my backpack, but the procedure was hindered by my shaking hands. It probably wasn't the best idea for me to go to gym, but that couldn't be helped.

"Bella?" a soft voice asked from behind.

I jumped in surprise and turned to find Edward still staring at me with those forceful, dark gold eyes. "I'm late," I said unsteadily before I threw the strap of my backpack over my shoulders and strode out of the classroom. Unfortunately, he kept up with me quite easily.

"Are you all right?" he insisted.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "You should get to class, Edward."

I felt rather than heard him leave and I sighed heavily. He was truly much too observant for his own good; if I wasn't careful, he could be dangerous.

In P.E. we started a unit on badminton. I focused hard as Coach Clapp explained the game; the complicated rules served as a welcome distraction from everything else.

By the time the final bell rang, I managed to calm myself to that numbed state. It seemed that as of late it was very difficult to sustain it; memories, dreams and black and gold eyes dropped ripples in the smooth surface. I wasn't being as careful as I should have.

I made chicken enchiladas for dinner that night. Charlie was wary at first—I couldn't blame him, Forks wasn't exactly known for its Mexican cuisine—but after the first bite, he relaxed. "This is really good, Bella."

"Thanks."

After we were finished eating, I rose to wash the dishes. Charlie quickly cleared the table and dropped the mail on it. "Something came for you," he said. "It's in the big manila envelope."

"Okay," I said. When the dishes were finished, I took the envelope and retreated to my room. I closed the door and sat down at my desk to lift the flap and reach inside. I pulled out several small, glossy sheets of paper, realizing quickly that they were photographs. My fingers turned them over and my heart abruptly stopped. My throat closed up and the enchiladas churned in my stomach. Without a second thought, I bolted out of my room and into the bathroom. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I vomited.

Charlie must have heard the retching sounds because he was in the doorway in an instant. "Bella?" he asked worriedly. "What happened?"

When I was finished, I lifted my face from the toilet bowl and shook my head. "Nothing," I replied. "I shouldn't have made enchiladas tonight. It didn't agree with my stomach."

He paused. "If you're sure," he said slowly. It looked like he wanted to do more. It looked like he wanted to stay, just in case I started throwing up again.

"Really, Charlie. I'm fine."

"Okay," he said hesitantly. "But try and eat something later."

"I will," I promised.

He left the doorway to the bathroom and I rinsed my mouth out, all the while thinking of what to do. _He_ knew where I was; I had to tell the detectives.

When I got back to my room, I pulled Detective Manning's card from the drawer in my bedside table, ready to run downstairs and dial her number. This was the kind of thing she'd want to know about. This was the kind of thing she warned against.

I strode quickly back to the door, but my hand paused over the doorknob. I hesitated and the sense of urgency quickly started to drain from me. What did it matter? So what if he knew? Why should I call and cause undue stress and worry on people who had already done so much for me already?

I could almost hear my mother's disapproving tone, but I shoved that thought aside before my lungs had the chance to constrict. If I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that the thought of dying didn't terrify me. In fact, I nearly welcomed it.

And besides, the detectives would come back soon to do a once over of the town and they'd bring that idiotic shrink with them. And I trusted Charlie to keep me alive. There was no need to get them prematurely worried. So with the decision made, I went back to bedside table and tossed the card in there. Then I took the photographs that lay on my desk and ripped them in half without taking another look. They fell to the trash and they stayed there; like the rest of my memories, I tossed them and fought tooth and nail to keep them away.

Unfortunately, the memories refused to be tossed as easily as the photographs, this time. I finally realized with sickening horror the full extent of what he had done to me, what he had taken from me.

The images were still embedded in my mind's eye, ingrained for good. I felt my shoulders throb at the memory and my throat close up. Luckily, my stomach was already empty so I couldn't vomit anything, but it only added to the horrible empty feeling. My chest ached, almost as if he were atop me all over again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that this wasn't real—the pain I was feeling was just from reliving the memories, courtesy of the photographs. But the majority of my mind wasn't willing to listen to the logical side right now. It was too busy drowning in the pain.

I curled up in the rocking chair and squeezed my legs very tightly. No amount of staring or concentrating was going to make this go away. It seemed like I was going to have to resort to something much more drastic tonight.

I walked to my desk and searched for something, anything that might help. Then my eyes fell on a pair of scissors.

_No!_ the rational side of my brain screamed. _Don't do this! You'll regret it!_

But once again, the rational side of my brain was ignored. I had read somewhere that it felt like release and I was looking for that tonight.

I waited until Charlie was sound asleep. When I heard his snores through my bedroom walls, I quietly tiptoed to the bathroom and locked the door, scissors in hand. I looked up into the mirror and stared at my reflection; my face was thinner, sallower than it had been three months ago. There were bags under my eyes and frown lines bracketed the corners of my mouth. They seemed like permanent fixtures nowadays, almost as if I had grown up with them.

I couldn't take it; there was no way I could do this with the lights on—not with my empty-eyed reflection watching. So after making sure I knew where the sink was, I turned around and flipped the light switch. I was plunged in complete darkness.

_Please,_ I heard a voice in my head beg. It sounded suspiciously like my mother's. _Bella, don't do this. Please don't do this_. But I had already made up my mind.

Slowly, very slowly, I opened the scissors and pressed the open edge against the inside of my left forearm. I dug the point into my skin and gasped sharply at the pain. The smell of rust and salt crashed against my nose and I began to feel dizzy. Quickly, before I could pass out, I dragged the edge sideways against my skin; I pressed the blade just hard enough to draw blood, but not so hard that I would do more damage that I meant to.

When I was finished, I held the cut over the sink and let the scissors clatter to the tile. The smell was terrible, overwhelming and threatening to pull me under consciousness, but I let the cut bleed. I breathed through my mouth and that helped a little. The nauseated feeling abated, at the very least, and my head wasn't spinning quite as much anymore.

As the liquid oozed over my skin, the image of those photos slowly faded away until they were nothing but a faint outline in the very back of my brain. The pain in my shoulders left, almost as it had bled out with the cut I had made. In fact, every ache in my body seemed to gather on one point on my arm and as it bled, the anguish left as well.

When I reached that final deadened state, I rinsed the cut under a stream of hot water from the faucet. Then I pulled out a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet and wrapped it around the arm. I was grateful for the very first time that the constantly cloudy weather in Forks called for long-sleeves nine months out of the year.

When I was finished dressing my wound, I washed the blood off the scissors. Then I left the bathroom and tiptoed quietly back to my room. I left the scissors on my desk, easily accessible, in case this exercise was necessary again. Of course, I didn't want to do it again—I didn't want to do it in the first place. But tonight, I was desperate.

_I just have to be more careful from now on,_ I thought to myself. _I can't let things like photographs and memories get to me. And I have to do a better job of ignoring Edward Cullen. He's dangerous and I can't be around him._

But how was he dangerous? Was he dangerous because of that all-consuming, hateful glare he threw at me the very first biology class I spent with him? Or was he dangerous because of something else?

One thing was for sure; he was so entirely different. While the rest of the school got my not-so-subtle hints to leave me alone, he did the complete opposite. In a place where I wanted nothing more than to be ignored, he noticed me. He noticed and he poked and pried with his devilishly handsome features and intense eyes.

What was more, he saw through my lies. He realized I had been lying about why I was here, which could be very dangerous if I let the situation escalate. Once and for all, I had to stop talking to him. I couldn't let him get to me.

I fell asleep once again in that rocking chair as my mind raced with thoughts of Edward Cullen. And for the very first time, he made an appearance in my dreams.

"_Bella," he said sternly. His face wore the same expression as when he demanded the truth of why I moved to Forks._

_My lips pressed together in a thin line. "What, Edward?"_

"_Why are you doing this?"_

"_Doing what?"_

_In that instant, Edward's pale face tanned and the smooth skin wrinkled and sagged. His eyes shrunk and changed into a watery blue and his nose widened—he had changed into Dr. Levsky. "Why are you running away from everything, Bella?" he asked in that calm voice of his._

"_I'm not running," I said defensively._

"_Yes you are," he argued. "You've been running the moment the trial ended."_

_My subconscious self bristled. "That wasn't my fault," I spat. "And it wasn't my choice. The detectives said I had to go into witness protection, so I did. I'm not running because I want to."_

"_But aren't you?"_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_Would you have stayed in Phoenix if you had the choice?"_

_My silence answered his question for him._

"_This isn't healthy, Bella," he insisted._

"_So what?" I snapped._

"_You need to face this. You can't keep running from everything! You left everything in Phoenix behind, and now you're running away from your pain and possible friendships! You're ruining your own life!"_

"_I'm not ruining my life!" I shouted. "Alan Vickers did that for me!"_

_But Dr. Levsky changed once more—his skin lightened and smoothed. His face thinned and his sparse, salt and pepper colored hair thickened and changed to a dark mahogany, streaked with deep shades of red. His eyes darkened too; they changed to a deep brown. These new eyes were so expressive, and so bright. Currently, they were blazing with an earnest fire._

_Dr. Levsky had turned into me._

"_But don't you see?" this reflection begged. "You can still pull yourself together! You can still fix this ruined life! You have all the tools—use them!"_

_She looked just as I had three months ago; before any of this had ever happened. She was wide-eyed and naïve; she looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and refused to believe that there were some causes that could never be helped._

"_What do you know about this?" I demanded. "You don't know anything!"_

"_I know you," she said evenly, though her face was filled with determination. "I know you better than anyone; you can get through this!"_

_I finally snapped. "What if I don't want to? What if don't want to fix this?"_

_Her expression cooled. "Well. I never thought I'd see the day that you'd turn into a coward."_

_I bristled. "I'm not a coward," I whispered defiantly._

"_What you mean is you didn't used to be," she corrected._

"_I'm not a coward!"_

"_What happened to you?" she continued, as if she hadn't heard me. "You used to be brave; you used to be selfless."_

"_Shut up!"_

"_I saw you the night it began. He found you and Mom in the closet—"_

"_Shut up!" I screamed. I refused to remember._

"—_And you held him off long enough to give her a head start! You used to be brave! You didn't run away from a threat when it came to someone you love!"_

"_But it didn't work!" I finally shouted. "It didn't work! No matter how hard I tried, Mom still died!"_

"_So what, you just decided to give up now before you even try? That's cowardice! Face it, Bella: you've turned into nothing but a spineless zombie, running from everything that makes you human!"_

"_SHUT UP!"_

"_And now you're going to let someone else you love die," she said, her fierce expression suddenly melting into a sadder one. "Come on, Bella. Don't you love me anymore?"_

_I narrowed my eyes at her. "How can I? You were the one that killed Mom."_

_She shook her head. "No I didn't."_

"_Yes you did! You were the one that killed her! You let her die, you didn't do anything! You just let that bastard kidnap you instead of calling the police!"_

"_I thought that if he took me, he'd leave Mom and Dad alone!"_

"_But it didn't work. And now they're both dead because of you! At least I tried! I was the one that held him off and you just let him take you!"_

"_I was doing what I thought was best!"_

"_And look where that got us." I laughed humorlessly. "Why am I even talking to you? You don't even exist. You died when Mom died."_

_She shook her head and her long brown hair fell around her face. "No, I didn't. I'm still with you. I'm buried deep inside of you, but you've been running away from me for so long."_

"_With good reason. You're nothing but an annoying, whiny spoiled brat."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "And you're nothing but a coward."_

"_I AM NOT A COWARD!"_

"_If you're not a coward, then fix this! Fix this mess you made!" She closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking them slightly. "Stop running! Turn back around and fix this!"_

"_No!" I refused. "I'm not going to fight this anymore! I'm tired of fighting!"_

_She let her arms drop to her sides. "So you're just going to let us die?" Tears pooled in the bottom of her brilliant brown eyes. "I'm disappointed in you. I thought you loved me."_

_A pair of scissors materialized in my hands. Without a second thought, I took them and stabbed them into her stomach. Her eyes, so much like mine, widened in shock as she looked down at her wound. I stared back at her, my own eyes empty. My entire body was numb and unfeeling; this creature, this beautiful, sweet creature was going to die by my hands and I didn't care._

"_How could I love you?" I whispered as she slowly sank to her knees. "You were the one that ruined my life."_

My eyes suddenly flew open and my dying reflection disappeared. Without stopping to dwell on my dream, I unwrapped the gauze around my arm to check on the cut; it stopped bleeding and it was already starting to scab. I made sure the cut was shallow, so it wouldn't leave a noticeable scar.

Then I got up, walked to my desk and put the scissors in the very bottom drawer. I wouldn't do this again; it caused me to have much weirder dreams. I wasn't quite sure if I liked this one better than the nightmares. Perhaps it was just because I had fallen asleep on an empty stomach. Yes, that must have been it.

The next morning, I was a little more careful on getting to school. The roads were now covered with a half inch more ice and despite the snow chains Charlie had wrapped around my tires, I didn't want to kill anyone; my truck was the kind that could easily mutilate any other car.

When I got to school, I jumped out of the truck and observed the tires carefully. I wanted to learn how to put the snow chains on by myself so Charlie wouldn't be inconvenienced again. I didn't want him to worry about me anymore than he already did.

Suddenly, I heard something squealing and wailing. People were screaming and gasping all around me, so I turned around. The sight that met my eyes froze me to my spot.

A sand-colored van was skidding across the slippery ice. The driver in the front seat had lost control of his steering wheel and was desperately trying to regain it, but it was too late. The car was already set on a perilous path, and I was in the way.

The car came closer and closer threatening to crush me against the bed of my truck. There was no time to escape.

And all I could think was, _Thank God_.

**A/N - So to be honest, I'm really nervous about your reactions to this chapter. I'm always worried about your reactions to other chapters, but this one...this one is the one I'm afraid of the most. I really want your brutal feedback, flames and all. Please, PLEASE tell me what you guys think. I'm begging you.**


	5. I'm Breathing on my Own

**I'm Breathing on My Own**

I closed my eyes, waiting for the car to come. Suddenly, I felt something crash into me from the wrong direction. I was pushed sideways onto the icy concrete and I fell hard. Something cracked in my shoulder and I realized with slight dread that the bone had popped out of the socket again. I tumbled across the ground once more and my head banged against the ice.

"Bella?" a frightened voice murmured in my ear when I finally stopped moving. "Bella, are you all right?"

"No," I said with a wince as I sat up. "I think I dislocated my shoulder."

The van continued to veer in its deadly path. It missed my truck by inches and instead crumpled the shiny silver Volvo in the next spot. Everyone in the crowd ran to see if the driver had been hurt.

I looked up to see who had saved me. Eyes the color of dark butterscotch gold stared into mine, frantic with worry. "The ambulance is on its way," he told me. His arm was around my back, supporting me lest I fall back onto the icy parking lot.

"You saved me," I said in amazement. There was a slight accusatory tone in my voice.

Edward didn't say anything. He just nodded, continuing to stare at me.

"Why?"

He didn't get the chance to answer. At that moment a very shaken man came running to me. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I really never meant to hit you!" He looked much older than a student, probably in his early thirties or so. He was of average height and weight with nothing really noticeable in his appearance. But there was something incredibly familiar about him—almost like I knew him from somewhere else.

Edward's head immediately whipped around and he stared at the man in surprise and anger. The arm supporting my back stiffened and I thought I heard a soft growl coming from his throat.

"It's okay," I said quietly. It didn't matter.

"No, I'm really sorry! I just hit the ice wrong and then all of a sudden I was swerving everywhere! Please, forgive me!"

I was spared from having to answer him because at that moment, sirens were blaring and blue and red lights were flashing all over the parking lot. "The ambulance is here," Edward told me, as he very reluctantly tore his angry gaze from the man who almost killed me.

The paramedics rushed over to us with a stretcher right behind them. Three men gently lifted me onto the gurney, careful not to disturb my neck or my shoulder. Edward stood beside me the entire time, never letting me out of his sight. His sudden protectiveness made me feel incredibly guilty—he went to great lengths to ensure my survival when I didn't care.

I didn't deserve his concern.

The ambulance was at the hospital in no time. The doctors who received me led the gurney to an empty room and they very gently moved me from the stretcher to the bed. I subconsciously stiffened the moment my body touched the sterile sheets.

Edward noticed my uncomfortable position. "Bella? What's wrong?"

I hadn't been in a bed since the last time I was in the hospital, and even then I wanted out. I asked the nurses several times to move me to a couch, a futon, anything but a bed, but they refused. This position brought the memories back with even greater force and I cringed.

"Bella," a beautiful, tortured voice murmured urgently. "Bella!"

_"Bella," a throaty whisper floated through my mind. "Oh, Bella…"_

"Well, Miss Swan," a pleasant voice greeted. I looked up with unseeing eyes and vaguely registered the face of an incredibly attractive man wearing medical scrubs and a white lab coat. "What brings you here today?"

"Her shoulder's dislocated," Edward told him. "And she hit her head pretty hard."

_My wrists were chained to the bedposts and I felt him tug hard on my legs. I screamed in agony when the bones in my arms ripped out of their sockets. Then he grabbed a fistful of my hair and threw my head against the headboard._

The doctor beside me frowned slightly when he saw my shoulder. "Have you dislocated your shoulder before, Miss Swan?"

"Yes," I whispered. My mind was still trapped in the memories.

Cold hands gently guided my lost bone back to the cradle of my shoulder. I gasped in pain, suddenly jerked from the past. The brace wrapped around my neck prevented me from looking, but I could tell that the area surrounding my arm was swollen. I could feel the muscles strain against the cloth of my shirt.

"Edward says you also hit your head," the doctor continued.

The sudden pain of my relocated shoulder managed to shake me from my memories. They weren't completely gone, but now they played in the background, no longer distracting me from the present. I was able to more carefully observe this much too young doctor. His eyes were a dark gold, much like Edward's, and his features were pale and beautiful. They looked so much alike, but at the same time, wildly different.

"Bella?" the doctor prompted gently.

I started. "Uh, yeah," I said, a little too late. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."

"I'm Dr. Cullen. I'm Edward's father."

I nodded. It made sense.

Dr. Cullen reached forward and placed his hands at the base of my skull. Very gently, he felt around for any bit of tenderness. "Does your head ache?"

All the time. "No."

He pulled a pen light from the pocket of his white lab coat and flashed it in my eyes. "Do you feel dizzy or light-headed?"

Only when I breathe. "No."

He must have noticed that I was lying because he frowned. "I'd like to send you for some tests just to make sure," he said. "I'm ordering an X-ray for your shoulder to see if there's any lasting damage and I'd also like to run a CT scan for your head." He scribbled something down on my chart and glanced significantly at his son; Edward simply nodded in reply. Then he pocketed his pen and walked out of the room.

We were silent for a few moments; there was so much that needed to be said, and Edward seemed at a loss of where to start. I just didn't want to talk at all.

Finally, Edward broke the silence. "How do you really feel?"

I shrugged. "Why does it matter?"

His expression was puzzled. "You're in a hospital. If you're experiencing any pain, this is the place where they could find the problem and fix it."

So naïve. "I'm just tired," I replied.

The expression on his face told me he didn't believe me, but he let it go. After a few more moments of quiet, he spoke up again. "Did you know that man? The man who was driving the van?"

I looked up and immediately regretted it. His powerful ocher eyes grabbed me and sucked me in, compelling me to tell the truth. "I don't know," I replied dazedly. "I feel like I've seen him before. Why?"

He frowned. "Where did you see him?"

I dug into the recesses of my brain, carefully avoiding the parts that still held onto the dreaded memories. His nondescript facial features made it hard for me to remember if I had encountered him before—he was so ordinary that nothing about him stood out in my mind.

Suddenly, I remembered. I was sitting on the witness stand and sitting right behind the defendant's table was an average looking guy. My eye passed over him quickly, but his indignant frown at my testimony registered in my head; he didn't like what I had to say.

"I saw him in Phoenix," I said when I finally located the memory. "I never talked to him."

And then it hit me.

"He was trying to kill me," I whispered in realization.

Edward's gaze sharply turned to me. "What?" he demanded.

My suspicions were right. Alan Vickers knew where I was—the fact that he sent one of his go-betweens to off me only proved my theory.

But Edward wasn't going to let me ignore him. "Bella, how did you know that he was trying to kill you?" he demanded. His face was only inches away and his eyes were demanding the truth. I couldn't say no.

"Because I've seen him before," I murmured. Then I closed my eyes, trying to pull myself from Edward's vacuous hold. "Thank you," I finally said. My eyes opened, now carefully empty and devoid of any emotion. "You didn't have to."

His godlike face gave way to a shocked and horrified expression. "Bella," he whispered tragically. "How can you say that?"

At that moment a nurse came into the room. "Miss Swan? I'm here to take you to your X-ray."

I nodded and she pulled the bed from the wall. She pushed it down the hallway with Edward behind her, his beautiful angel's face troubled and worried. I was beginning to regret saying anything in the first place.

The X-rays and the scans didn't take very long. About an hour later, I was back in the hospital room, waiting in silence for Dr. Cullen to come back.

"Bella, is there anyone you'd like for me to call?" Edward asked quietly.

I shook my head. There was no point in worrying Charlie or the detectives; after all, I didn't die.

But Edward wasn't going to let it go. "Come on, Bella. There has to be someone. What about Chief Swan? Isn't he your guardian?"

I sighed wearily. I was tired of his questions and his goading. "Look, Edward, what does it matter if he knows that I'm in the hospital? There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not dead. I'm only waiting for someone to discharge me so I can leave."

"You don't know that there's nothing wrong with you," he accused. "You could have seriously injured your head. Why don't you want Charlie to know that you're in the hospital?"

Hot anger rippled the placid waters of my numbed state. "Why do you care? What does it matter to you? You don't even know me. Just go away, Edward. Thank you for saving me, but you should go back home."

He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms across his chest: a gesture of defiance. "No."

I gnashed my teeth together. "Why not?" I demanded.

"Because no one deserves to be in a hospital alone."

His answer shocked me and guilt racked my body. After a long pause, I muttered, "You really don't have to do this."

"I know," he replied, his expression softening. "But I want to."

To my intense horror, tears started to gather in the corners of my eyes. I blinked carefully, making sure that they didn't overflow. "You really shouldn't have, you know," I said quietly. I was hoping he didn't hear me, but he had.

"Shouldn't have what?" he asked gently.

"Shouldn't have saved me. It would have been easier if you just let that van hit me."

His soft expression suddenly turned disapproving. His lips pressed in a thin line and his eyes hardened. "And why do you think that?"

I was so close to telling him. I almost told him who I really was and why I was here. My mouth opened and the words swelled in my throat, ready to come out. Luckily, I was spared from having to answer him once again because his father walked into the room.

"Well, Miss Swan, your X-ray came back clean. Your shoulder's going to be in pain for a little while and you'll have to be careful when you're moving it. We don't want it popping back out, but other than that your shoulder will be fine. As for your head, the scans show that you've had brain surgery very recently."

I saw Edward's head turn to stare at me in the corner of my eye. "Yeah."

"I'll need to know the nature of the surgery."

"Why?" I asked. "Did something show up in the scans?"

He nodded. "I'm not exactly sure what it is yet, but if you tell me what happened in your last surgery then I can figure out where to go from here." He looked at me expectantly.

"There was an accident a couple of months ago," I said vaguely. "I hit my head my head pretty hard and there was some internal bleeding. They had to go in and stop it."

"Hmm," he nodded. "Who, exactly?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who was your doctor? I'll need them to fax your medical records."

I started to feel uncomfortable. My medical records were still filed under my real name, so if he called and asked for them, there would be a great deal of confusion.

"Dr. Porter," I replied after a long pause. "He's the head of neurology at Phoenix Memorial."

Dr. Cullen nodded and made note of that on his chart. "I'll give him a call tonight. In the meantime, I'd really like for you to stay here, just for observations."

I bit my lip, but nodded. "Is it okay if I move around? I don't have to stay in the bed, do I?"

He shook his head. "Moving is fine for now, but I don't want you moving around too much; if you're going to be out of bed, at least use a wheelchair, okay?"

"Okay."

"Is there anyone you'd like to call?"

Inwardly, I sighed. If I was going to stay overnight in the hospital, then I was going to have to tell Charlie, as much as I didn't want to. "Yeah. Could you call my Uncle Charlie? He doesn't know I'm in the hospital. Be sure to tell him I'm fine and that nothing happened, and he doesn't have to come."

Dr. Cullen raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I don't want him worrying."

When he left, Edward stepped forward and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Then you should probably call him yourself."

I sucked in a breath and took it from him. I dialed Charlie's number with dread.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Charlie?"

"Bella?"

"Yeah. Um, listen…I'm…" I took another deep breath before I could say the words, "I'm in the hospital."

His reaction was just as I feared. "You're in the hospital?" he repeated in panicked tones. "Oh my God, Bella, what happened? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I feel fine," I quickly reassured. "I got to school and as I was in the parking lot this guy lost control of his car on the ice and he was heading straight for me. But Edward Cullen pushed me out of the way. I landed on my shoulder and dislocated it, but Dr. Cullen popped it back in place. I also hit my head so they ran some tests. I don't know exactly what's going on but they want to keep me overnight for observations."

"I'm coming to see you."

"No, that's not necessary," I hastily countered. I slid a sideways glance at Edward and saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. "I'm fine, Charlie, I swear. You really don't have to come."

"Bella, I made a promise to keep you safe. I'm getting the keys right now and you're not going to talk me out of it."

I sighed in defeat. "Then…then could you do something first before you leave?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I have Det…Mrs. Manning's number in my bedside drawer." I almost called her Detective in front of Edward and that would have opened a whole new can of worms. "Could you read it to me?" Edward was beside me in an instant with a pen in hand. I took it from him with a quiet nod.

"Sure." I heard him set the phone down for a moment while he went to retrieve the card. He came back a few moments later and read out the number.

"Thanks." I was getting ready to hang up the phone.

"Wait," he called. "Does this have something to do with…with him?"

"I'm not sure," I lied. "I just think this is the kind of thing she'd want to hear about."

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

"No need to rush," I told him. Then I pressed the end button. "Can I make another call?" I asked him. "It'll only take a second."

He nodded courteously. "Take all the time you need."

I hesitated before I opened the phone again. "Um…could I have some privacy?"

"Oh," he quickly realized what I needed and nodded. "I'll just go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat."

"Thanks."

When he was gone, I dialed the number I had written on my hand. The phone rang twice before a sharp voice answered. "Manning."

"Detective? It's Bella."

"Bella," she repeated warmly, her formal voice quickly dissolving. "What do you need?"

"I…I think he knows where I am."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "How do you know?"

I explained to her what happened that morning. "The guy that was driving the car came out to apologize to me, but I thought I saw him at the trial."

She sighed. "So you're not sure?"

"Well…last night I got a big manila envelope and inside were…there were a bunch of pictures in it. Of me. They were pictures of me when…" I hope she understood. I didn't want to have to explain it.

But she got it. She was quiet for a long time—deliberating, I assumed. "This changes everything, Bella."

"I know."

I heard her sigh. "Okay, here's what we'll do. Detective Anderson and I will fly up there tonight and we'll do a once over of the town again. We'll bring Julia Andrews and Dr. Levksy with us. Where are you right now?"

"I'm at the hospital. They ran some tests after I hit my head and they want to keep me here overnight for observation."

"Good," she said. "The hospital's a safe place for you to be. Make sure that there's always someone with you, even if you're just in your room, okay?"

"I will," I promised. "Oh, and another thing—the hospital needs a copy of my medical records and they're going to call Phoenix Memorial tonight to have them fax it. I think the hospital's going to be confused because of the whole name change thing, so…"

"We'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

"Okay. Hang tight there, Bella. We'll be there soon."

Moments after I hung up, Edward walked back into the room. His expression was troubled and his lips were once again pressed in a very thin line. I handed the phone back to him. "Thanks for letting me use it."

He pocketed the tiny silver cell phone. "It was no problem." Then he frowned at me. "You know, that was the most I think I've ever heard you say."

I gave him a funny look.

"I'm simply stating that you're a very quiet person. And you're very abrupt. You don't beat around the bush—you just say whatever you need to and you stay quiet for the rest of the conversation."

I shrugged. "There's not much to say."

His frown deepened. "Oh, I disagree. You're hiding something."

Instead of replying, I slid off the bed and sat down in the wheelchair. "Everyone's hiding something," I finally said, not looking at him. "I'm no exception."

Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could practically feel his eyes narrowing in my direction. "Fine, then. Let's start with something simple: what's your real name?"

I turned and smirked at him. "Isabella."

He wasn't deterred. "Isabella…?"

"Isabella Marie," I continued to hedge.

He sighed. Then he swiftly strode across the wide room and closed the door. When he was sure that we were alone and no one was listening, he turned to face me. "I propose an exchange," he said. "We'll trade secret for secret. You tell me one of yours and I'll tell you one of mine."

My eyes narrowed. "Why do you care so much? What's it to you?"

"Bella, don't you understand? That man from earlier wanted to kill you! He deliberately got into his car and skidded on the ice just to take your life! Doesn't that worry you at all?"

"No," I said simply. "What worries me is that you seem so invested in my survival."

"Well what worries _me_ is the fact that you seem so nonchalant towards your near demise. You know very well that a man tried to murder you and you don't care. You are taking no measures to prevent a similar occurrence in the future and I demand to know why."

I narrowed my eyes. "Will you really tell me one of your secrets if I tell you one of mine?"

His will seemed to waver, as did his expression. I smirked in triumph. "You keep your secrets, Edward, and I'll keep mine."

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. "Your secrets are nothing compared to mine," he warned. "One of mine is worth at least two of yours."

This was a challenge and the part of me that I had been struggling to suppress since I arrived in Forks cried to take him up on it. What was it about Edward Cullen? Every time I was around him he easily tore down the walls I had worked so hard to construct. He saw through my charades, my veils with ease.

He swiftly switched tactics, his eyes glowing with sincerity. "Bella, I saved your life. I think I deserve to know why I had to do so in the first place."

Completely against my will, my mind began to form the sentences that would answer the question he so fervently asked. The words swelled in my throat and sat at the tip of my tongue, ready to blossom the moment I opened my mouth. But I swallowed them back and demanded, "How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you can keep a secret?"

His eyes burned with intensity, the rest of his expression completely solemn. "Bella, you have my word that I won't speak a word to anyone."

To this day, I blame his eyes. Those damned butterscotch eyes made me confess. With a deep breath, I reluctantly answered his question. "My name is Isabella Marie Dwyer, and…and I'm hiding in Forks from the man who killed my parents."

**A/N - Sorry for the cliffie! If you guys review, I'll be sure to update as soon as possible!**


	6. Wake Me When the Hour Arrives

**Wake Me When the Hour Arrives**

I expected Edward to look absolutely horrified. I expected him to stammer and offer all sorts of useless apologies as he edged conspicuously toward the door. But once again, he did the exact opposite of what I expected. His face melted into an expression of intense sympathy. "That's terrible," he said sincerely. He looked as if he wanted to reach forward and touch me, but he stayed where he was for which I was incredibly grateful.

For the first time in the past three months, I wanted to say something more. I wanted to explain myself, to tell him what had happened and what more needed to be done. I actually wanted to talk. My chest, instead of aching terribly, swelled with unspoken words that threatened to burst and flow out in an overwhelming rush. But before I could say anything more, Charlie arrived.

"Bella?" he asked. He stopped when he saw Edward with me.

"Hello, Chief Swan," Edward said politely. He turned to smile at my guardian, but I could tell that he was unwilling to lift his concerned gaze from my face.

"Hello," he said in confusion. Then he looked at me with worry. "Are you all right?"

"I told you I'm fine," I said quietly. "You really didn't have to come."

"But I wanted to," he reminded me. "Is there anything you need? Like a book or a spare change of clothes or something to drink—are you hungry? I can go run out and get something for you if you are. I think I saw a McDonalds somewhere."

"It's okay, Charlie. I'm not hungry."

"I think I'll give you a moment alone," Edward announced. "If you need me, Bella, I'll be right outside."

I nodded. When he was gone, Charlie turned to me. "So…do they know what's wrong yet?"

"No. They're waiting for my medical history."

Charlie didn't say anything. He looked as if he were hesitating, as if he wanted to say something but he wasn't quite sure how I'd take it. "Bella, I know that you haven't known me for very long, but you can tell me anything. If you want to talk, I'm always here."

There were many people over the past three months that had made this promise to me. The detectives, Mrs. Andrews, and Dr. Levsky being the most recent had all sworn that if I needed someone to listen to me, their ears were always open. But even though Charlie's words weren't at all original, his offer was the most touching. And no matter how much I wanted to take him up on this offer, I couldn't.

"Thank you, Charlie," I said quietly. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I could ever repay you."

He began to look a little uncomfortable. I was beginning to realize that shows of gratitude weren't something he was used to dealing with. "It's no trouble, Bella. You've been very easy to live with. If I had a daughter, I'd hope she was as low maintenance as you are."

Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitched. Charlie grinned widely and I suddenly wondered how he was still single.

"Well, I'm going to go find Dr. Cullen—he's your doctor right?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to go find him and ask what's going on. I'll be back, okay?"

I nodded again.

When Charlie left, I rolled myself over to the window (which was difficult, since I was only using the non-injured arm) and pulled the blinds open. I couldn't see anything; it was already dark and the bright fluorescent hospital lights glared against the windows, making it impossible to see anything. I was about to roll myself to the light switch when I saw Edward's reflection in the dark glass of the window. I turned around and saw him frowning intensely.

"Bella, what's that on your arm?"

I looked down and inwardly cursed the damn hospital gown into which the X-ray technician made me change. The hospital gown left my left arm exposed, displaying my gauze wrapped wound. "I had an accident," I lied. "It was pretty shallow, but I didn't have a band-aid big enough to cover it."

He looked as if he didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything further. Instead he tried to convince me to take a nap. "You must be really tired. Why don't you go to sleep?"

I shook my head. I knew what awaited me in sleep.

"Well if you're not going to sleep you should at least rest in bed. You probably shouldn't be in a wheelchair right now."

"I'm fine."

Then, so quickly that I couldn't catch his movements, Edward was a foot away from my wheelchair, the door already closed. He took a deep breath and grinned wryly. "Well, I suppose this means I owe you."

My eyebrows slanted downward in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I did propose an exchange and you even exceeded my expectations. You shared two secrets and I have yet to share any."

I couldn't help but smile a little bit. "That's right. You said that two of my secrets were worth one of yours."

He nodded. "I trust you not to divulge this with anyone else," he said, his tone gentle but his eyes fierce. "And I also ask that you keep an open mind before I reveal this."

I nodded gravely. By now, I was a professional at keeping secrets.

He took a deep breath. "I killed a man once."

There was a short pause as the meaning of his words sank in.

He killed a man. He committed murder.

Horror stiffened my muscles when the implication finally reached me—I was in the presence of a murderer. Instead of escaping one, I had found a different set of bloody hands.

His golden eyes turned pleading. "Bella, please, listen to the story first. I have reasons."

What reason could constitute murder? He killed someone—that man probably had a family, a daughter waiting patiently for his return only to realize that he would never come home. His eyes would never open, and his heart would no longer beat. He probably had a wife that loved him and cared for him. He probably had a mother and a father that would mourn the loss and curse the perverted twist of nature; sons were supposed to bury their fathers, not the other way around. What could this man have done to cause Edward to orchestrate all this pain?

"I found a young girl—your age, I would suspect—lying in an alley, alone and bleeding," he began the answer to my unspoken question. "She had been brutally raped and left for dead." And suddenly, Edward was no longer with me. His eyes were far away, reliving the past. The haunted look glinting in his golden eyes and his velvety words washed over me, bringing me with him to his dark memory.

"It was horrific. Her skin seemed to be made of bruises, both her eyes were swollen and there was blood all over her face. Her legs were broken and she was completely naked, lying in a pool of blood and clothes. And though her knuckles were swollen and bleeding—a sign that she had fought back—she was still barely conscious. Barely alive.

"I was livid. I didn't know who this girl was, but what had happened to her was unforgivable. After I called my father and brought him to this girl, I started to search for the rapist. I found the man several blocks away, smug and whistling. I knew it was him—I could see faint flecks of blood on his wrists and I caught sight of a strand of the girl's long blond hair on his trousers. Without thinking about it, I charged at him from the darkness and I killed him."

His eyes lost their glazed quality as he returned to the present and looked back at me. His smile was sad, his golden irises tortured. Despite his justification, he sincerely regretted his actions and my heart swelled with unexpected sympathy for him. "To this day, I wish I had found the police; I never should have killed him."

I could imagine the scene vividly. I could see Edward hunting for the man like some sort of glorious angel of death, avenging the violation of an innocent victim. I could see the terror in the man's eyes when he spotted the dark abyss of Edward's black irises before he died.

"What happened to her?" I asked after I finally managed to find my voice.

Edward's eyes darkened and he looked away. "She died from the blood loss."

I curled my hands into tight fists and they shook against the armrests of my wheelchair. She probably screamed when it happened; why had no one heard her? Why had no one come to her rescue earlier? She could have lived if someone had come to her rescue. Instead they let her cries go unnoticed.

"I don't blame you," I murmured. All my preconceived opinions had flown out the window the moment I heard what had happened to the young girl.

He looked up and his eyes looked faintly…hopeful. "You don't?"

I shook my head. "If I had been in your position, I might have done the same thing."

We stared into each other's eyes and something unspoken but powerful passed between us; I could almost feel Edward's regret and I was sure he could feel some of my pain. We were now privy to one another's secrets and there was no going back. Without thinking properly, I had entrusted my survival to someone I hardly knew. But for some reason, I wasn't worried.

It must have been the apathy kicking in.

Our moment was interrupted by someone opening the door. Dr. Cullen walked in holding what I assumed to be my medical records with Charlie following close behind.

"Well, Bella, your medical history states that you underwent some intense emergency surgery two and half months ago." He frowned at the charts in his hands. "Three of your ribs were broken, and there was some internal bleeding both in your lungs and your brain."

"Does any of this explain what you saw in her scans?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. It just shows that some scar tissue is building up around the suture lines and I wasn't sure what to make of it. You'll be happy to know that there is no lasting physical damage as a cause of the accident and you should be able to go home tomorrow."

"Wait," I protested, "if it's nothing then why do you still want to keep me?"

"It's just a precaution, but I'd like you to stay here for tonight. We're just being thorough."

This was ridiculous. If there wasn't anything wrong with me, then I shouldn't be in a hospital. They should be giving this room to someone who might actually need it. But unfortunately, I seemed to be the only one of this opinion so I began to resign myself to a night in the hospital.

"So she'll be fine?" Charlie asked. "She won't have to come back for a check-up or anything?"

"I would strongly suggest that she come back for a follow up CT in four weeks, but I expect that she'll be fine. You'll have nothing to worry about, Chief Swan."

Charlie sighed with relief. "Thank you so much, Dr. Cullen. I really appreciate this."

The doctor flashed a brilliantly white smile. "If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me."

When the doctor was gone, Charlie turned to me with a wide smile. "Did you hear that, kiddo? You're going to be fine."

I bristled slightly at the term of endearment, but I tried to match his exulted expression. "Yeah, I heard. It's getting pretty late, Charlie. You should probably be heading back."

He nodded and started to walk toward the door. Then his hand paused over the doorknob as he turned back to look at me. "You don't need me to stay with you tonight? I'll stay if you need me. I'm sure the nurses could find me a couch or something—"

"That really won't be necessary," I said, trying to hide my horror at the idea. "You heard Dr. Cullen, he said I'll be fine. Go get some sleep, Charlie. I promise, I'll call you if I need anything."

This seemed to placate him. Without another word, he exited the hospital room, leaving me alone with the enigmatic Edward Cullen.

The man in question turned to me the moment Charlie's footsteps became too faint to hear. "So you've been through a great deal of surgery," he commented with a frown.

I shrugged.

He hesitated before he continued. "Did…did the man who killed your parents try to kill you too?"

My throat tightened and I felt the rolling sensation in my stomach. Luckily I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, so there was nothing to vomit if I lost control. "I don't want to talk about it," I replied shortly. I concentrated on calming the pain in my stomach.

Edward noticed my sudden reaction to his question. "What happened, Bella?" he asked in a voice as soft as velvet and as sweet as the most lilting lullaby. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away; I knew if I saw his beautiful face, everything would come tumbling out and I wouldn't be able to keep the pain away.

"Bella, you can tell me," he prodded gently. "I'll even tell you another one of my secrets, if you want."

No. There were some secrets that I had to keep, no matter what, and this was one of them.

"You should go home, Edward," I said quietly. "Your family will wonder where you are."

I finally looked up. The pain in his expression twisted the omnipresent gutting knife in my stomach, urging me to tell him to stay. And in that moment, I had never wanted anything more than to tell him to remain here with me, to keep me company as I fought off sleep and the inevitable nightmares that threatened me in the distant horizon. The words pushed against my tight lips, desperately trying to escape, to beg him not to leave.

But I fought to still my tongue. I wouldn't force him to bear this burden with me, as it had been imposed on me. This pain was something I had to carry on my own without outside assistance. To ask for help would not only be weak, but selfish. No one should be forced to harbor this torture.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, Edward straightened his face into a courteous expression. "Good night then, Bella. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Carlisle has my number—he'll give it to you if you need."

I frowned in confusion. "Carlisle?"

"My father." His composed face cracked ever so slightly to reveal a slightly anxious but gentle undertone. "Sleep well, Bella. I'll visit you tomorrow after school."

The moment he closed the door behind him, the imaginary blade in my abdomen pushed even farther, until my skin touched the hilt. For the very first time, some of the pain I carried in my heart eased when I told Edward my real name. And I knew why. The secret was growing, getting bigger and bigger, like a massive blister until the pain was too much to ignore. Telling him who I was and why I really was in Forks was like taking a needle to the blister and letting the liquid leak out: painful at first, but necessary to relieve the ache.

And I was left there in that cold hospital room with nothing but my throbbing shoulder. Part of me wanted to leap from that ridiculous wheelchair and run after Edward, to ask him to stay. But another part of me reminded the irrational part of my first reaction to the beautiful creature; the intense pain that twisted my insides when I fell head first into his black orbs, the memories that tormented me relentlessly with full force and vivid clarity. It was ridiculous to regard Edward as more than just a meddling classmate, because even if he did mean well, this was the kind of horror that ended friendships, and Edward and I were nothing more than acquaintances. Perhaps even fond acquaintances.

But what, then, was that strangely intense moment that passed between us after we had finished exchanging secrets? What was that curious relief I felt? It was something akin to that terrible, rotting hole being slowly sewn back together, or the yoke across my shoulders lifting ever so slightly, to give my throbbing joints a much needed reprieve.

He's a murderer, reminded my rational side with unrelenting persistence. He murdered a man in a fit of rage. Who's to say that he wouldn't murder again? What if his temper got the best of him once more and he killed _you_?

But he murdered with reason, my sympathetic side argued. He murdered in the name of a young girl who was violated. He prevented similar occurrences from happening by the same man. He was a vigilante, but he had a justified cause. And he regrets having taken action in the first place! He knew he shouldn't have done it—that's why he won't murder again.

You hardly know him, sneered my rationality. You don't know that he wouldn't murder again. All you have are his eager eyes and pleading face. Don't fall for his farce.

How do you know it's a farce? My sympathy was stubborn. How do you know that he isn't sincere?

Truthfully neither side had an answer; I, as a whole, came to an uncomfortable impasse.

As the proverbial angels on my shoulders continued to argue, my eyes drooped lower and lower. I was too exhausted from the events of today and a general lack of sleep to put up a proper fight. My body eventually forced my lids closed and threw itself gratefully into unconsciousness. But my psyche cowered in fear, waiting anxiously for the dreaded memories to attack.

_"Bella?" a frightened, angel's voice called. The panic tore at my heart._

_"Edward!" I called. I frantically searched for a flash of glowing, pale skin through the darkness or the shine of his intense gold eyes._

_"Bella, where are you?" The hysteria in his tone climbed to higher and higher registers._

_"Edward, I'm right here! Edward!"_

_"Bella!"_

_And suddenly, he was there. He stood before me in all his glory, with a beautiful face ridiculously easy to see in the pitch black. His mouth was relaxed in a smile, relieved that he finally found me. "Oh, Bella, I was so frightened. I thought I had lost you."_

_But something was wrong…terribly wrong._

_His eyes were as dark as the day I met him._

_"Don't run away like that, okay?" he admonished gently as he walked ever closer to me. "I had no idea where you were. It made me anxious."_

_Suddenly his pale skin started to tan ever so slightly. The copper hair that splayed across his forehead shortened and darkened to a jet black. Everything about him changed; everything except those shadowed eyes._

_"Bella." His velvety voice turned throaty, almost insubstantial, as if he spent his whole life whispering. "Bella, where have you been? I've missed you."_

_A dim light flashed overhead and I was suddenly able to register my surroundings; I was cornered in a narrow alley, with no means of escape. My throat turned dry when I realized what was about to happen._

_"You shouldn't have run away," Alan warned, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. "You should have known that I'd eventually find you."_

_"Please," I whispered, "don't do this. Haven't you done enough?"_

_He went on as if I hadn't said anything. "Haven't you realized, Bella? I know you better than anyone on this planet. I know everything about you—everything from your different smiles to the curves of your body. I know what makes you scream and what makes you squirm. You belong to me."_

_"No!" I shouted, but it wasn't loud enough. My parched throat prevented me from being heard._

_"Yes," he whispered with a growing smirk. "You're mine. Forever."_

_I knew I had no chance…I knew that it would be useless to try and run. But I did anyway. With as much speed as my shaking legs could muster, I lunged across the alleyway and tried to escape in the tiny space between him and the fire escape. But it was too easy for him to reach out his arm and wrap it firmly around my waist as I ran right into him. "When will you learn that you can't escape?" he whispered tenderly in my ear. "When will you realize that no one will ever love you as much as I do?"_

_"Let me go!" I shrieked. The sounds of cars speeding on the nearby streets drowned out my desperate pleas. Could no one hear me?_

_"I can't do that, Bella," he murmured. "I can't let you go. I can't release what's mine."_

_I struggled against his iron arms. He was too strong._

_"Let go of your control, Bella. When you let go, you'll realize that you love me too."_

"LET ME GO!"

My eyelids flew open and I slowly realized that I was no longer in the wheelchair. Several pairs of arms were around me and I was fighting to push them off.

"Miss Swan!" Dr. Cullen cried. "Miss Swan, calm down!"

"What are you doing?" I demanded as the remnants of my dream dripped away like watercolors on wet paper. Why were they holding me?

"We're trying to get you into the bed," panted a disgruntled nurse. His arm was around my waist and I was struggling against him the most.

"Let go of me!" I screamed. "Let go of me!"

"Miss Swan, they're only trying to help," Dr. Cullen said in his most calming voice. "You fell asleep in your wheelchair and they thought that you would be more comfortable in the bed."

"No, I wouldn't!" I cried, my voice rapidly climbing with hysteria. "Tell them to put me down! Tell them to let me go!"

"Let her go, she might hurt herself," Dr. Cullen instructed them, his voice ringing with an edge of worry. "Put her down gently."

The nurses set me down on the ground and I immediately scrambled to the corner of the room, as far away from them as possible. All my limbs were shaking and my recently relocated shoulder was throbbing from the effort I had used to fight against them. My breaths ripped themselves from my mouth, tearing at my throat as they went.

"She's having a panic attack," Dr. Cullen murmured to the nurses. "Go get a paper bag."

One of them returned with a paper bag. I took it from him with shaking hands and struggled to get the opening over my mouth. He tried to rub my back comfortingly, but I jerked at the contact.

"Don't touch her," Dr. Cullen warned. The nurse backed away from me as he would from a frightened animal. He joined the rest of the nurses on the far side of the room. I closed my eyes and breathed through the paper bag, concentrating on breathing and quieting the tremor in my limbs.

I heard Dr. Cullen dismiss the other nurses, but I didn't look up. I was too busy trying to calm myself.

When I was finally controlled enough, I opened my eyes and looked up to see Dr. Cullen with compassionate eyes, the same color of gold as his son. "Bella?" he asked gently. "Are you all right now?"

I nodded. My throat was too raw to speak.

"Don't you want to get in the bed? It would be more comfortable."

I shook my head as hard as I could. I didn't want to be within two feet of that bed.

He sighed. "You can't stay in a wheelchair for the night. Would you be more comfortable on a couch?"

I nodded.

He beckoned with his hand for me to stand up and I very carefully pushed against the wall. When I was in a proper standing position, he gestured for me to get in the wheelchair and I sat down. He wheeled me down to the nurse's station and requested a change of room for me, asking for a couch.

When I was finally settled in my new room (as comfortable as I could be on that couch) Dr. Cullen turned the full force of his brilliant eyes on me. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about, Bella?"

I forced my voice to work. "No."

He frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

He didn't press the matter any further. He just nodded and turned the light off as he exited the room. When he was gone, I curled up under the thin hospital blanket and focused on breathing deeply. I felt a little terrible for lashing out at the nurses like that—they were just trying to make me feel more comfortable. It wasn't their fault.

And then my stomach twisted with guilt at the inconvenience I had put everyone through. Now Dr. Cullen was needlessly worried about not only the physical state of my head, but probably the psychological state of my head as well. I could only imagine how I looked when I was struggling to get away from the nurses: probably wild with desperation and terror.

I looked up at the dimly illuminated clock on the wall above the door; it read two o'clock in the morning. With a sigh, I rested my forehead against my knee, dreading the coming of a new day.


	7. Wake Me With My Name

**The following chapter is dedicated in loving memory to the Newman family. If any of you are in anyway religious, I would greatly appreciate it if you kept them in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.**

**Wake Me with My Name**

"Bella, there are some people here to see you."

I looked up and saw one of the nurses letting four people into the room. I recognized the faces of Detective Manning, Detective Anderson, Mrs. Andrews and Dr. Levsky.

"Hey, Bella," greeted Detective Manning. The nurse left and closed the door behind her.

"Hello," I replied quietly.

"How are you feeling?" Anderson asked.

I shrugged.

"Are you all right? Did the doctors say what was wrong or anything?"

"They said I was fine and that they would discharge me later today."

"That's good."

I nodded.

The small talk was over. Detective Anderson crossed from the door to the couch I was sitting on very quickly and sat down beside me. "Bella, do you remember what the man looked like? The one who tried to run you over?"

I struggled to remember. It was so difficult to recognize him in the first place with his nondescript appearance and bland facial features. He was so terribly average that absolutely nothing about him registered as memorable in my mind.

"He looked like anyone else," I replied. "He was of average height and weight, I guess. And he had brown hair."

"Was it long or short?"

"Short."

"What about his eyes? Do you remember what color they were?"

I shook my head.

At that moment, the door opened and we all looked up to see who it was. Edward Cullen was standing in the doorframe, watching everyone in the room with a wary expression on his ridiculously beautiful face. My pulse quickened by his mere presence, which slightly annoyed me. "Hello," he greeted. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I'll just wait out here when you're finished."

"No, wait," I called to him. "Detective, Edward was the one who saved me. He saw the guy too. He might be able to give you a better description."

Detective Manning turned to him. "You saw him?"

Edward nodded. "I could draw a picture of him if you'd like. I have a photographic memory."

"That would help us out a lot," Anderson replied.

"Here, let's go somewhere else and we'll talk about what happened," Manning said as she gestured to the exit. I could tell that it was a not so subtle excuse to leave me alone with the lawyer and the shrink. I felt a faint strain of panic ripple through me.

When the detectives had left with Edward, Mrs. Anderson turned to face me with her maternal smile. "Well, Bella, I came today to give you a really great piece of news."

I raised my eyebrows.

"We've arrested Vickers again and we're going to convict him this time. I swear."

My eyebrows shot up my forehead in skepticism. She said that the last time, too.

"Bella…honey, we're going to try and convict him on rape."

My hands clenched tightly around the blankets that covered my legs. "No," I said immediately as I started beating the memories back.

"Bella, this is one of the strongest charges we have against him," she argued. "No jury in the world would dare keep him out of prison once they see what he did to you. Don't you want to see him behind bars? Your parents deserve justice, Bella. You deserve justice."

I looked up and stared straight into Mrs. Andrews' eyes. She must have seen something that made her uncomfortable because she flinched. "Can you convict him without my testimony?"

She sighed. "We…we have a lot of hard evidence," she reluctantly admitted, "but we really need you to testify against him."

"No." My denial was much louder now.

"Bella, I—"

"No!" I shouted. What was it that these people didn't understand? It wasn't something I wanted to talk about. Why couldn't they see that? I didn't want to remember these terrifying memories that I was forced to relive every time I fell asleep. Wasn't it enough that I was alive? Wasn't it enough that I survived? What more did they want from me? How long would I have to suffer for someone else's sins?

Dr. Levsky decided to cut in. "Bella, I think you should."

I turned my glare at him, but he did not flinch. He stared back at me with equal seriousness. "Of course you would, _doctor_," I spat. For some reason, anger and resentment would flare up within me whenever Dr. Levsky was around. His presence brought out the worst in me.

"Bella, the sooner you face this—"

"The sooner I can get over it," I finished for him. He abruptly closed his mouth and his lips curled in a weird sort of grimace. "That was what you were going to say, wasn't it? That's what you were telling me to do the last time you came for a visit."

"I should go," Mrs. Andrews said quickly before Dr. Levsky could retort. "But please, Bella, think about this. We can get Vickers behind bars, but we need your help to do it." Then she exited the room without a backward glance, hoping to escape the awkward argument that was bound to continue.

Sure enough, the moment she was out of earshot, Dr. Levsky started his crap. "Take me through it," he demanded with a hard look in his eye. "Take me through what happened, and I don't want to hear some garbage about not wanting to relive it."

I stubbornly crossed my arms across my chest and glared at him. "Forget it."

"Bella, it's one thing that your parents died, but—"

"Shut up!" I screamed. I wanted to lunge across the room at him, flail my helpless fists against him. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze as hard as I could. In that moment, I hated him so much for even _talking_ about my parents. How dare he tell me to talk about what happened! How dare he _presume_ for even a _second_ that he had any idea, any clue as to how I was feeling!

"Bella!" he shouted. "Bella, listen to me! Listen to me! This is your one and only chance for justice! Are you going to let him do this again? Are you going to let him out on the streets to kill and rape again?"

That horrible, loathsome, four-letter word grated against my skin. I hated it with every fiber of my being; it seemed like such an inadequate word for what it represented.

"Tell me what happened," he said again, but more gently this time.

My shoulders shook with the sobs I struggled to restrain. "I can't," I gasped. The pain of the memories crashed against me, beating me with sharp echoes and deadly colors.

"Come on, Bella," he coaxed. "Tell me what happened to you."

"No," I refused again, but quietly this time. I rested my forehead on my knees and pressed the heels of my hands against my ears. I squeezed my eyelids shut, trying to escape the pain. It ripped at my lungs, tore at my muscles and sliced through my heart, cackling gleefully at my agony all the while.

"Take me through it," he persisted. "I can help."

No he couldn't. No one could help. I was on my own.

A tiny part of my brain registered the sound of a door opening. "What are you doing?" demanded a velvety voice I seemed to have memorized. "Who are you? What's wrong with Bella? What have you done to her?"

"I haven't done anything," explained Dr. Levsky. "I'm just trying to help her."

"If you were trying to help her then she wouldn't be curled up on a couch crying," the angel's voice growled. "Get out."

"But—"

"Out!"

I flinched at the menacing edge in that one word, but it worked. Without another sound of protest, the shrink swiftly walked out the door, closing it behind him. When the sound of his expensive shoes faded away, a soft voice slowly came closer. "Bella?" it whispered. "Bella, it's okay. He's gone."

No he wasn't. Even after three months, he was still there. He was still in my head, taunting me. He was lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce, waiting to take me again. And this time, there was no way I would escape alive.

"I—can't—Edward." The words ripped themselves from my lungs in short gasps. I was struggling to breathe and wipe away those wayward tears at the same time. If I had been looking properly, I would have been able to see Edward's tortured expression, but I was too focused on the visions I saw dancing in the blank wall behind him. Everywhere I turned, Alan was there, smiling good-naturedly at me. He stood with open arms, waiting to take me back and never let me go. The only part of him that hinted at his sinister nature was his pitch black irises.

"You can't what, Bella?" coaxed the beautiful creature before me.

"I—can't—do—this—anymore." The panic had blown the poorly patched hole in my chest wide open and I was struggling to close it again. But I was rapidly losing strength with the effort. "It—hurts—too—much. I—can't—keep—this—under—control."

"Bella," he said urgently as he crouched down before me. I hadn't realized how close he was until I felt his cold breath on my face. For some reason, this calmed me…the smell helped me breathe a little easier, at the very least. "Bella, listen to me. You _can_ do this."

I closed my eyes and the tears squeezed out the corners, but Edward wasn't having that. "Bella, look at me. Look into my eyes."

I reluctantly opened my eyelids. His shining topaz orbs bore into me, burning with sincerity, managing to calm and soothe my terrified gasps in a way no paper bag could. Edward's eyes pulled me from the brink of complete and utter chaos, guiding me gently through the quagmire and bringing me back to sanity, to reason. I felt my heartbeat begin to ease its erratic pattern and the rest of my body calm down until the only proof that remained of my panic attack was my shaking fingers.

"Edward," I whispered. Even though my body had physically settled, my emotions were still raw, vulnerable. I was still incredibly breakable. "Edward, they want me to testify. They want me to testify against my parents' murderer."

"I know," he said gently. "I heard."

He didn't ask any questions, for which I was extremely grateful. So I just closed my eyes and leaned my head against the couch, waiting for the traces of adrenaline still running through my bloodstream to dissolve. It took me at least fifteen minutes before I was completely under control. When I opened my eyes again, he was still there.

I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. I had never broken down that completely in front of anyone, much less the most beautiful creature in the world. I looked up, expecting to see a sympathetic, pitiful expression in his handsome face, but I didn't find that. Instead his eyes shone with a protective light, ready to help me fight off my pain if I needed it.

Wanting to shake off my embarrassment, I tried to start a different conversation. "Shouldn't you be in school?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows, but the corners of his lips twitched. "School ended two hours ago."

I glanced up at the clock. Sure enough, it read five thirty. Wasn't I supposed to leave by now?

"My father's coming," he told me, as if he were reading my mind. "He's going to perform one last examination and then you'll be free to go."

I nodded. "Thank you. For everything."

He understood.

Seconds later, the door opened again. "Miss Swan?" I looked up and saw the handsome Dr. Cullen standing in the doorframe with my chart and a smile. "I'm just going to perform one last examination and then you'll be free to go."

I turned my glance back to Edward and he grinned. Involuntarily, the corners of my mouth lifted in a small smile.

When Dr. Cullen had finished examining me, he signed off on the chart and said I could leave. "Do you want me to call your uncle?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but I was cut off.

"I could take you home if you'd like," Edward offered. I thought I saw Dr. Cullen shoot his son a bewildered and suspicious glance, but he didn't say anything.

"I don't want to inconvenience you," I said softly.

He shook his head. "Not at all. I was going home after you left anyway."

I bit my lip. It actually made much more sense for Edward to drive me to the house than it did for Charlie to take the police cruiser all the way up to the hospital. "If you're sure," I said hesitantly.

Edward's lips curled up in a crooked smile, one that took my breath away with its beauty. "I'm sure," he said in a velvety smooth voice. Too dazzled by his angelic face to speak, I nodded and followed him out of the hospital.

When we were safely out of earshot of any meddling passersby, I asked the question that I wanted to ask the moment I had calmed down from my panic attack. "Do you really have a photographic memory?"

He chuckled warmly at my question. "Yes. It comes in quite handy when studying for big exams."

I paused. "So you were able to draw them a picture?"

He nodded, all traces of amusement gone from his face. "That man was especially easy to recall," he whispered. "The desire to rip his head off his shoulders was strong enough to ensure I would never forget him."

At this point we were already in the car, watching as the landscape sped past us at an alarming rate. Normally, I would have been terrified at how fast he was driving, but I was too preoccupied with his words. "Why were you so angry?" I asked quietly.

He turned to look at me with eyes so soft my heart almost broke at their beauty. "He almost killed you, Bella," he reminded me. "In fact, that was his purpose all along. He wanted you dead. Had he succeeded, I would not have hesitated to rip his head off his shoulders after all."

I shuddered. The memory of the chilling story he told immediately came to mind. "Edward, promise me you won't ever do that," I begged with feeling. "If he or someone like him manages to kill me, please don't seek revenge. It's not worth it." I very nearly said _I'm_ not worth it, but I wasn't willing to face the look of indignation that would undoubtedly dominate his features.

His lips pressed in a thin line. "I'm not going to sit by and let your murderer go free to kill again."

The thought of Edward killing once again sent shivers down my spine. "Don't you see? At the end of all of this, what is there? Killing the man who killed my parents won't bring them back, and killing my soon to be murderer won't bring me back to life."

The look in his eyes softened, but there was an edge of darkness in the gentle waves of gold. "If you promise not to die, then revenge will never be necessary."

I sighed. Such a tall order.

Suddenly, we were stopped. Edward had parked the car so smoothly in front of Charlie's house that I hadn't realized we were there. Then he turned the full force of his topaz eyes on me and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand of his stare. "Bella," he said with compassion in his voice, "the man who killed your parents didn't try to kill you, did he?"

My throat immediately tightened and my insides clenched, readying themselves for the inevitable pain.

"Did he?"

I worked around my suddenly swollen vocal chords to answer him. Of all the people left in my empty life, Edward was the one person who deserved to know the most. "No," I whispered, clenching my jeans tightly. "He didn't."

His voice was as light as a feather, sweet as a song. "What did he do?"

"Please don't ask me that," I begged. "Don't ask me that."

Desperation rang in every word and he respected that. So he just nodded and said, "Okay."

Maybe someday I would feel comfortable enough or in control enough to tell him what happened. But that day seemed far off and almost impossible at this point. And now that Alan Vickers knew where I was, it didn't look like that day was ever going to come before he found a way to kill me.

After a moment of heavy silence, I moved toward the door handle. "I should go. Thanks…for everything."

He nodded. "My father wants me to remind you that if you feel dizzy or nauseated at all, give him a call as soon as possible."

"I will."

He seemed to sense I was lying because he frowned. "And if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me. I gave my number to Charlie the other day, so you can ask him for it."

"Thanks," I repeated. Then I opened my car door and stepped out. "Bye, Edward."

"Goodbye."

Charlie must have been warned ahead of time that I was heading back to the house because he was waiting in his armchair for me. When I walked through the door, he immediately stood up and walked to my side. "How do you feel today? Do you need help with anything?"

"I'm fine, Charlie." It seemed to be the only thing I ever said to him. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No. I was waiting for you to get home."

I nodded. "Would you like me to make something?"

He nodded a little sheepishly, and I couldn't help but smile a little at his embarrassed expression. "If you wouldn't mind."

A half hour later, we were sitting down to hamburgers and potato chips. I wasn't much of a burger person myself, but Charlie seemed to enjoy the meal, so I contented myself to eat it as well.

"I'll do the dishes tonight," Charlie said when we were finished. "You must be tired."

I was always tired, but I didn't argue with him. I just nodded and went upstairs with the vague idea of finishing some of the homework that was undoubtedly assigned while I was in the hospital. But it wasn't enough to claim my attention and when it was finally finished, my mind was free to wander, something I didn't want. And soon I was thinking about Mrs. Andrews' ambitions to convict my parents' murderer once more.

I shivered at the thought of having to take the witness stand. Mrs. Andrews saved me from having to do so before, but this time around I wouldn't be able to escape so easily. If I didn't take the witness stand of my own free will, Dr. Levsky was sure to drag me there, kicking and screaming if he had to. I would have to sit there in front of God and everyone and admit to something I still didn't want to believe. And the worst part was that I knew what would happen after I revealed the extent of my torture; the expensive lawyers Vickers had the luxury of hiring would make me doubt myself. They would rip my story apart hit by hit, bruise by bruise. They would trivialize the experience somehow to discredit me in front of the jury.

I could hear _his_ laughing voice in my head. "I didn't do those things against your will, Bella," he murmured gently. "You wanted me to, remember? I only did what you wanted."

"No," I whispered. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I was giving you what you wanted."

"I didn't want it."

The smirk in his voice was evident to my mind's ear. "Yes you did. You screamed with joy. You loved it."

"No." But with every syllable the voice spoke, my will crumbled into the ocean of despair. I brought my knees up to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut to escape his throaty sentences.

"You loved it," he continued, tearing down my walls. "You loved it when I stroked your stomach and pulled your hair. You wanted more."

I looked around the room, desperately searching for something to stop his voice. I shakily uncurled my limbs and stood up. Unfortunately, my knees were too unsteady to properly support me and I collapsed to the ground. But I was desperate to make this stop, so I dragged myself on the ground, grasping for anything.

"I loved you, you know," his voice whispered tenderly. "You were so beautiful…so perfect. I thought that if I gave you what you wanted, you'd love me back."

_No!_ I shouted. The shaking worsened and I started pulling out all the drawers in my desk. There was only one thing I was looking for—there was only one thing that would make this stop.

"You made me so happy most of the time," he said the moment my fingers wrapped around the blades of the scissors. "But sometimes, you'd make me so angry. If you had just listened to me, I never would have broken your bones."

I didn't bother going to the bathroom—there was no I way I could have stood up. So with my back against the base of my untouched bed, I rested my shaking forearm against my thigh.

"See?" his voice said in triumph. "You like pain. You wanted what I did to you."

"Bella," a suddenly new, completely desperate and velvety tone whispered. "Bella, don't do this."

Edward's voice was new. I'd heard Vickers' voice before, but never Edward's. The scissors stopped in midair, but it was still shaking from my unsteady nerves. "I have to," I breathed. "There's no other way. He won't—and I c-can't—"

"Bella." The husky voice that haunted my nightmares plagued me even in consciousness. "Come back to me. I'll love you better than anyone else. I promise."

"Bella," the angel urged quietly, "put the scissors down."

My eyes were squeezed shut and my hands were clenched over the handle of the scissors.

"We could have been happy. We could have been so happy, Bella. And if you come back to me, we _will_ be happy. I'll make you so happy, Bella. I'll give you everything you could ever want. I love you."

"No, you don't," I sobbed. "You killed my parents. You killed my parents."

"You made me kill your parents." His voice was no longer gentle; in fact, it was fierce with anger. "You only have yourself to blame."

"Bella, please let go of the scissors." Edward's whisper pervaded my thoughts and broke through everything else. "Put them down."

"I can't—I can't! There's—and h-he won't—"

"Yes, you can," Edward whispered. "Put them down. Please, put them down."

It took all my strength, but I forced my fingers to release their hold on the scissors. They fell to the hard wood floor with a sound that shattered the illusion of Vickers' gruff voice, though his invisible hold on my mind still remained. I trembled violently and pressed my knees against my chest in an attempt to still my nerves.

"Oh, Bella," Edward's voice murmured. Then, without warning, I felt something cold and hard encircle my body, pressing me tightly to a soft fabric. I flinched violently, but the hold on me didn't waver. "It's going to be all right, Bella. I'll keep you safe."

The words were so sweet and so beautiful; I wanted to believe them. I wanted so badly for this wonderful illusion to be true, but I knew it wasn't. My imagination was so vivid lately that it was difficult to separate the delusions from the reality. But for the very first time, my imagination was comforting me instead of haunting me with terrifying memories. I cherished the fantasy as long as I could, and for the first time I let myself fall asleep in those arms.


	8. See You Somewhere Down the Line

**See You Somewhere Down the Line**

I woke up the next morning in the rocking chair with a peculiar feeling. It took me a while to recognize it because it had been so long since I had last felt it. I actually woke up that morning feeling well rested. For the very first time in three months, I slept dreamlessly.

But did I? Something tugged at me from the back of my mind—last night, I was under the impression that Edward Cullen was in my room, right when I was about to…

No, the rational side of my brain said firmly. You just heard his voice. You also heard Vickers' voice and he's in prison right now. At least, that's what Mrs. Andrews said. It was all in your imagination.

I was doubtful. What about his arms? Did I dream that he held me, too?

Of course you did, my rational mind scoffed. What would you have done if he really did touch you?

I would have freaked, I answered my own question grimly. I would have had a reaction much like I did when the nurses in the hospital tried to move me to the bed. There was no way I would have let him hold me like that, especially when I was so emotionally vulnerable.

It must have been a dream. But it was a very nice dream, and it was enough to chase away the nightmares for one night.

Once I was fully awake, I glanced at the clock; the red numbers said it was two thirty in the afternoon. Thank goodness that it was a Saturday.

I showered and dressed carefully, pondering on ways to pass my Saturday. Eventually, I settled on the idea of running some errands, since we were dangerously low on edible food. When I was dressed, I ran downstairs to find something to eat. As I was searching the cabinets for the last granola bar, I found a note next to the sink.

_Bella,_

_I'm out fishing with a friend. His number is 866-7584. Call me if you need anything. _

_Charlie_

I rolled my eyes and crumpled the paper in my fist. Charlie was really hung up on this whole calling him thing, no matter how many times I told him I was fine.

I grabbed my jacket from its peg in the hallway and ran out the door, locking the door firmly behind me. A huge surprise greeted me the moment I turned around.

Edward Cullen stood in my driveway, emerging from the driver's seat of a shiny red convertible with the tan roof protecting the undoubtedly luxurious interior from impending rain. He was smiling at me with a disarmingly charming grin, though the look in his eyes said he was a little unsure. "Hello," he said.

"Hi," I replied warily. What was he doing here?

"I just thought I'd check up on you," he said, answering my unspoken question. "I wanted to make sure that you were doing well."

"I am."

"That's good." But he still stood there, watching me with an oddly protective look on his face.

"Um…can I help you with anything else?"

Suddenly his excruciatingly lovely face broke into a breathtaking grin and his golden eyes sparkled with intense charm. "Well, I know that Chief Swan usually goes fishing on the weekends and you don't seem like the kind of girl who likes fishing, so I thought you might be a little lonely."

I blushed. "What makes you think I don't like fishing?"

His smile just widened. "Well, where are you heading right now?"

He had me in a corner and he knew it. "If you must know, I'm going to run some errands. I don't really need any company—in fact, it's probably going to be pretty boring, so you should probably go find someone else to hang out with."

He tilted his head to the side, like a child asking a hard-to-comprehend question. "I can make it less boring," he offered innocently.

My heart pounded at the thought of Edward Cullen accompanying me to the supermarket in all his ethereal beauty. I opened my mouth to tell him no, but the words that came out instead were, "Well, if you really want to."

His eyes suddenly lost their wary edge and they gleamed with happiness. "I do. I'll even be your chauffeur."

I finally turned my attention to his ride. "Whose car is _that_?" I demanded as I stepped off the porch and stumbled, slightly dumbstruck, toward the shiny red convertible.

"This? This belongs to my sister, Rosalie."

I frowned. I suppose I'd never really paid attention to anyone else in school, but I was absolutely certain I would have noticed his sister. People as beautiful as Edward Cullen shouldn't be allowed to have siblings.

"What about your car?"

Edward's smile suddenly disappeared and gave way to a glower. "It was totaled when that pitiful excuse for a human tried to kill you."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You drove the silver Volvo?"

He nodded.

"Then what did you drive me home in yesterday?"

"That was Carlisle's," he explained as he opened my door for me. "I would have taken his again, but he's at work, so I was left with Rosalie's car. Emmett's car would have been overkill."

"Why?" I asked as I slid in. He closed the door behind me and walked around to open his door.

"Emmett has a Jeep Wrangler," he replied. "It's good for driving off road, but it's not very practical for everyday use."

"If you have cars like this then why do you bother with a Volvo?"

He grinned at me. "You must not have been very aware of your expression, but you were in awe. Can you imagine the same reaction two hundred times over if Rosalie drove her car to school? We don't really like it when people ogle our cars."

I snorted. "So why bother having them?"

His smile turned into a self-satisfied smirk. "Because we like to drive fast."

That was an understatement. The moment I was buckled in, his foot was on the gas pedal and we were speeding through the empty streets. My eyes widened in slight terror when I saw the speedometer needle inch ever closer to one hundred.

Edward must have noticed my fearful expression because he very abruptly changed the subject. "So where would you like to go first?"

I tore my eyes away from his dashboard and looked at the list I had made before I left the house. "Um…I need to go to the grocery store," I offered weakly.

He nodded. "To the grocery store it is then."

Minutes later he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition. The weather was predictably cloudy and wet, so I made sure to tuck all my hair into the hood of my raincoat before I climbed out of the car. But Edward was already at my side, opening the door courteously.

"Er…thanks," I said uncomfortably.

"No problem," he replied.

Being with Edward in a grocery store was so strange. Grocery shopping was such a normal, everyday thing; countless individuals all over the world performed this task without ceremony, and the fact that Edward was here confused me. People as beautiful as Edward didn't belong in grocery stores. Seeing him observe tomatoes with a mild sense of curiosity struck me as so odd, as so out of place that I very momentarily forgot what I was doing just to stare at him.

Suddenly, he was staring at me across a bin of onions. "You don't have to do this, you know."

I frowned. "Do what?"

A small smile pulled around his lips. "You don't have to awkwardly search for something to talk about with me," he explained gently. "You can just say whatever you're thinking. In fact, I'd like to know what you're thinking. You always have the strangest expressions and it makes me wonder what goes through your head."

I reached into the onion bin for something to do with my hands. "I was just thinking how strange it is to see you in a grocery store," I stated, trying to play off my blush as a reaction to the sudden warmth of the store. "I can't picture someone as beautiful as you in a place as ordinary as this."

My eyes widened in horror when I realized that I had just called him beautiful to his face. But Edward simply smiled. "I admit, it's been a very long time since I've been in a grocery store. The smells are a little bewildering." He picked up an onion and sniffed it. A look of disgust immediately blanketed his features.

I gave him a small smile. "Well us regular folk are used to it."

He grimaced at me, but said nothing. I continued through the store, trying to ignore the blatant stares from the other shoppers. It seemed as if I wasn't the only one disconcerted by Edward's perfection.

We got to the canned food aisle before we spoke again. Edward had been examining a can of fried onions with a look of distaste, not unlike the one he wore when he sniffed a fresh onion. "What is the obsession with green bean casserole? It looks entirely unappetizing."

I looked over his shoulder and grimaced at the picture. "I never really liked it myself."

"Then why do people insist on making it? I've never heard a single good thing about it. Even the name sounds disgusting. _Casserole_," he said slowly, as if to emphasize his point. Then he shuddered.

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "But what I want to know is who thought that casseroles would make a nice housewarming gift. Whoever came up with that idea needs to be shot."

Edward laughed. A part of me shied away from the beautiful sound, but a larger, much stronger part wanted to keep making him laugh. "I have no idea," he replied. "The concept is rather bewildering to me as well. When my family and I first moved to Forks, we must have received a million casseroles from the friendly citizens of Forks."

That tiny smile returned to my lips. "Did you eat any of them?"

He shot me a look of playful horror. "I didn't go anywhere near them. Emmett tried one of them, though."

"And what did he think?"

Edward laughed again. "He said it tasted like dirt."

The mention of his brother suddenly sparked a curiosity about the rest of his family. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Four," he replied. "We're all adopted; Emmett, Alice and I are siblings while Rosalie and Jasper are twins. Esme is actually my aunt and she took us all in." His face softened at the thought of his adoptive mother.

"You love her," I observed.

He nodded. "Carlisle and Esme are two of the most loving beings in the world. I'm eternally grateful to them—they've given us all so much."

My stomach twisted in longing. A pain so fierce shot through me at the thought of his perfect family; it was a sharp reminder of what I had lost and what I could never regain. But despite this intense pain, I wanted to know more about the Cullens.

"Do you get along with your siblings?"

His face broke into a wide smile. "For the most part. We bicker like any other family, but it's playful—nothing serious at all. We all have different personalities that make it easier for us to live together."

"Are your siblings as…are they…" I struggled to find the right words without making me sound like a total idiot. "Do they look like you?"

He must have realized my efforts because he smirked. "I suppose they do. Many of the children at school seem to think that Rosalie is, ah…hot…but I personally don't see anything. And besides, they're wasting their time. She's in love with Emmett."

My eyebrows shot up my forehead and Edward snickered. "Are you surprised?"

I struggled to find the words. "I—it's just—I think that's very…unorthodox, that's all."

He shrugged. "I suppose it is. But Alice and Jasper love each other as well. As long as they're not related, does it really matter?"

I thought for a moment. "No, it doesn't. I'm just not used to the idea."

He smirked again. "I see that."

I was suddenly intensely curious. From what he told me, Edward seemed to be the odd man out. "What about you? Are you in love with anyone?"

His eyes became guarded in an instant. "I've never been in love before," he replied. "I've never met anyone who caught my eye."

Skepticism etched its way between my eyebrows. I found it very unlikely that Edward had never met anyone that caught his eye. "Really?"

He must have heard the disbelief (I wasn't really trying all that hard to hide it) because he rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. No one has ever really been worth the effort."

I felt my heart lighten with a strange feeling; it felt suspiciously like hope. "Oh."

He sharply threw his gaze towards me and I could feel his eyes burn holes into my skin. "What about you? Are you in love?"

That hope inside of my chest abruptly shattered. "No."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"No."

He must have realized my sudden and abrupt change in mood because his eyes were immediately gentle and he didn't say anything further. I hurried to the check-out to pay for the groceries.

When we were safely in the car, he turned to me with a concerned expression. "Bella, what happened?" he asked. "What happened in Phoenix?"

I looked up at him, which was a terrible mistake. When would I ever learn that looking into his eyes was always a bad idea? But despite the pull in his glorious eyes to tell him the truth, I swallowed the story in my throat. "Edward," I whispered, my voice strangled with the words that wanted to answer his question, "I don't know if I can tell you."

"You can tell me anything, Bella," he reassured me. "I won't tell anyone else, if that's what you're worried about. Your secrets are safe with me."

"I'm not worried that you'll tell."

"Then what are you worried about?"

I turned my gaze downward; this was the terrible truth that I had been longing to suppress. This was the truth that bothered me more than anything else. "I'm worried that if I tell you, you'll hate me forever."

The mood was excruciatingly silent. Then his beautiful, silky smooth voice broke through the tension with words I never thought I'd hear. "Bella, I could never hate you. Nothing you could ever say or do could make me hate you."

The treacherous hope I felt in the grocery store welled up inside me once again. How I longed to believe those words…how I longed to trust him with the secret that threatened to swallow me whole. But a part of me still stubbornly gripped at my skepticism. I hardly knew Edward; I was introduced to him only six days ago. How could I possibly tell him? How could put my faith in some stranger?

But I looked once again into his gaze and I knew. There was a feeling, deep inside of me that knew he would keep my secrets with me and guard them as his own. And he wouldn't judge me for actions of past. He would instead hold me accountable for my actions in the future.

_Tell him part of the truth_, a long dormant voice inside of me urged. _You don't have to tell him the whole truth. Just the part of it that you feel comfortable with._

I took a deep breath, preparing for the story that had cost me my life.

"As you know, I come from Phoenix, Arizona. I lived there all of my life. My mother met my father down there and they fell in love. They got married and they moved into a nice suburban home and I was born two years later. My family was so ridiculously average that my mother would make fun of us all the time; she said we belonged in a nineteen fifties sitcom." I thought I saw Edward smile, but I couldn't really be sure. My vision was glazed over with the memories of my childhood.

"We lived next door to a man named Alan Vickers." The mere mention of his name sent tingles crawling across my skin. Edward noticed my reaction, but he didn't say anything. "And he was a good family friend. He would come over often and we would have dinner parties. He would baby-sit me whenever my parents went out on a date and he would buy me Christmas presents and show up to my birthday parties. He would even pick me up from school whenever my parents had to work over time."

I swallowed hard. Those memories were the hardest part of this particular story. Those were the memories of one of my best friends and the greatest mentor I ever had. His voice didn't used to be the terrible throaty whisper that haunted my dreams; it used to be a wonderful, welcome sound. His laughter was practically the soundtrack to my childhood.

"Then one day, I came home from school to find the house completely empty. That wasn't really unusual since my parents worked over time a lot. But it was a Friday and they promised that we would all go out to watch a movie that I had been dying to see as a family, so they said they would go home as soon as they could. I just thought that something came up at work and they couldn't get out of it. So I went to the closet in the hallway to hang up my raincoat—it had been raining that day—when something yanked me inside the moment I opened the door.

"It was my mother." The memory of the terror paralyzed my muscles. "She pulled me to the ground and told me to stay in the closet and not make a sound. She said that she was going to try and—and hold him off. She told me to run the minute I got the chance. I didn't understand what was going on, but I knew it was something bad." Tears started to well up in my eyes but I hardly noticed. I was too immersed in the memories. "Then she…she handed me her cell phone and she said, 'I'll call you when it's safe.' But there was some part of me that knew…deep down, I knew she wasn't going to call me.

"Suddenly, the front door opened and a voice was calling my name. 'Bella!' he shouted. 'Bella, are you home yet?' It was Alan, but that didn't surprise me. We had given him the spare key to our house in case of emergencies. But Mom was suddenly terrified. She turned to me and she said, 'I'll hold him off as long as I can and when I do, run. Run as far as you can. Don't let him catch you.'

"But I knew that she was in more danger than I was. There was something in her voice that just told me she didn't expect to live and I couldn't bear the thought of her dying. So I swore that if something were to happen, I'd make sure she made it out of there alive."

This was the hardest part of this story. This was what haunted my dreams in the weeks preceding the trial.

"Suddenly, the closet door opened. Alan was in the doorframe with this…this terrible look in his eye." I could never properly describe it; his pitch black irises gleamed with a strange ferocity that horrified me to this day. "And when he saw me, he said, 'Bella? Renee? What are you doing in the closet?'

"That's when Mom launched herself at him. She tackled him to the ground, screaming, 'Not my daughter, you bastard! Not my daughter!'" What I couldn't tell him was that my mother had been dressed in nothing but her underwear, bearing cuts and bruises all over her skin.

I struggled to continue. "She was punching every inch of him she could, but…but my mother, she was never really strong." My voice began to crack and I knew the sobs were fast approaching. "He was stronger than she was and I knew that he wasn't going to let her hit him anymore. Then he grabbed her wrists and forced them backwards. He got up and pushed her against the wall. When she stood up, she tried to hit him again, but I pushed her out of the way. I couldn't—I _wouldn't_—let him beat her up. So I told her…I told her, 'Mom, run! Just go!'"

The look in her wild eyes was forever burned in my brain. They shined with terror, anguish, concern and pain. "She shouted, 'Bella, no!' But when she tried to launch herself back at him, I pushed her away again. 'Mom, I'll take care of it! Just go! Run!'"

There wasn't much space in that tiny front seat, but I managed to curl myself in a ball and clutch my knees to my chest; the hole had once again started aching. "She looked so hurt and so vulnerable. But I must have said or done something that really hit home because she did eventually run. She turned and ran out the door, as fast as she could. That was the last time I ever saw her."

I wiped the trails of moisture off my face only to leave the way clear for fresh ones. "Two weeks later, I woke up in the hospital. They told me that my parents were dead and that Alan killed them. From what I know, my father had been at work when all of this happened. When he came home to find the house empty, he went next door to ask Alan if he had seen us. That's when Alan killed him."

The car was silent for what seemed like hours. I let Edward absorb the story as I struggled to still the shaking of my chest. The memories were back now, playing in front of me in full color and sound. It was like I had lost my parents all over again.

Finally, Edward spoke up. "And what happened to your mother?"

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "She tried to come back for me," I rasped. "She tried to save me. But she never got the chance."

I wiped the fresh tears from my eyes and looked up at Edward. I was immediately swept away by his expression; it was the most painful, most beautifully tortured look I had ever seen in my life. His eyes held anger, resentment, pity, compassion, grief and anguish all at once. I dazedly wondered what he was thinking in that moment.

"Bella…" he whispered.

That one word held almost all the emotion his eyes did and it caused the tears to build up again. Three months of complete agony, despair, rage and sorrow poured out of me. By telling my story, I ripped open the wounds, letting them bleed afresh. It all rushed out in surge of pain, threatening to sweep me up in its rapid, unrelenting current.

"I was trying to save her, Edward," I gasped between sobs. My mother's beautiful face popped up in my head. Her perpetually bewildered expression burned themselves in my eyelids. I would never see her smile again. I would never listen to her play the piano or hear her sing in her mediocre, sometimes off-key voice. I would never get to watch her show off to her husband and daughter the newest moves she learned in her interpretive dance class. She would never cook those crazy experiments or twirl around happily in the bright Arizona sun. She was lost to me forever because of my stupid mistakes. "I was trying to save her."

Suddenly I was encased in something cold and hard. I looked up and saw Edward's arms wrapped around my tiny frame. I waited through my sobs for the inevitable reaction. I hadn't allowed anyone but a doctor to touch me for the last three months, and anyone who tried instantly ceased due to the immediate and sometimes violent response that ensued. One touch set something off in my head; I would no longer be human, but I would fight like an animal being threatened.

But when Edward held me, I felt no reaction. In Edward's cold arms, I felt safe. I felt comforted. This realization only made the tears flow freer.

"Bella," he murmured, "it wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was," I insisted. "It was my fault! If I had just tried harder—if I fought harder, if I did something or if I tried to kill him, then my mother would still be alive!"

"No, Bella. He would have killed you too."

I wailed. "It would have been better than this!"

Suddenly, his cold embrace was gone and I missed the presence. I looked up to see him regarding me with a pained, but thoughtful expression. I sat completely still, trying to stifle the sobs that still shook my body.

Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. "Buckle up," he ordered.

I was taken aback. "What?"

"Buckle up. I'm going to take you somewhere."

My grief temporarily gave way to my confusion. I slowly reached behind me for the buckle and strapped myself in. "Where are you taking me?" I asked.

He sighed. "Bella, you've shared one of your greatest secrets with me. It's time I returned the favor."

**A/N - Phew! This chapter really wore me out. But aren't you guys proud of your girl? She's taking steps!**

**If you want to know more about this chapters (and future chapters) you can check my blog. It's listed as the website on my profile. And as always, don't forget to review!**


	9. We're Tethered Once Again

**We're Tethered Once Again**

In less than no time, Edward was parked in front of one of the most beautiful houses I'd ever seen in my life. It was huge, but not exactly imposing. It had this kind of classical grace—a vision from decades and decades ago.

"Is this where you live?" I asked. I turned to look at him; he had a nervous look on his face, which surprised me.

"Yes," he replied. He climbed out of the car and I followed suit.

"Why did you bring me here?" He was at my side in a second and with a very light hand on the small of my back, he led me to the front porch.

"I want you to meet my family," he said. But his expression looked much more serious than that. "And there's something about us that you deserve to know."

Suddenly, a tiny creature burst through the front door. I looked up and realized that it was a girl, one of the loveliest girls I had ever seen in my life. She was skinny to the extreme with short black hair and delicate facial features.

"Bella, this is my sister Alice," Edward murmured in my ear.

"Hello, Bella!" she called in a high-pitched voice. Then, so quickly that I hardly had time to notice, she was no longer on the porch. She was standing two feet in front of me with a wide smile on her beautiful face. "It's very nice to meet you!"

My eyes widened in surprise. She had so much energy.

"My name is Alice," she added. "I've seen you around school and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you are. Is that your real hair color?" She reached forward to touch my hair, but Edward made a sound of disapproval. She immediately dropped her hand, but the smile never left her face.

"Where is everyone else?" Edward asked. "Are they inside?"

"Yes. But Rosalie isn't very happy." Her smile melted into a grimace.

I looked at Edward and he nodded grimly. "I expected as much. Is Carlisle in his study?"

She nodded. "He's waiting for you."

"Thanks, Alice." Edward's hand was once again at my back as he lightly led me up the front steps and through the front door.

"Edward, where are we going?" I finally asked once we were far enough away from Alice. "What's going on?"

"I'm taking you to meet my father, Carlisle," he replied.

"But I've already met him," I pointed out.

Edward didn't get the chance to answer because the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life walked into the foyer. Currently, her face was hard and angry, her expression directed at him. "You," she whispered furiously.

Rosalie was so livid, so enraged that her eyes actually changed colors. They went from gold to pitch black in an instant. I felt the ground fall out beneath me and my already wet eyes start to stream in panic. Her eyes had changed so suddenly that I hardly had a chance steady myself.

Edward felt me stiffen underneath his arms and was there to catch me when my knees buckled. "Bella?" he whispered frantically. "Bella! Bella, what's going on?"

The fury in Rosalie's black eyes terrified me. It brought back the almost animalistic instincts I had to rely on three months ago. I retreated into myself, desperately trying to rebuild the walls and defenses I had neglected for the past few days.

"Bella!"

Edward's voice sounded so far away…almost as if he was standing at the mouth of a tunnel and I was on the other end. I was crouched on the floor with my forehead pressed against knees. Maybe if I curled up small enough, no one would be able to see me. If I tried hard enough, I could disappear.

I felt something cold press gently against the sides of my head. I flinched violently at Edward's touch, but he never moved. His face was right there, swimming blearily before my eyes. "Bella," he whispered. His breath washed across my face and the scent eased my lungs ever so slightly. His voice was no longer on the other end of the tunnel; he was getting closer and closer. "Bella, what's wrong?"

I was drowning and the water was slowing my reactions. But I tried to fight against the water. I tried to get to the surface, to tell him. I wanted to escape this.

"Bella." He kept repeating my name, and I clung to the sound of his voice like a lifesaver. "Bella, I'm right here. I'm here. Tell me what's wrong. I want to help."

I finally broke through the surface. "He had black eyes, Edward," I gasped. "He had black eyes."

My eyes suddenly focused and I saw his pained face. His hands left my face, but he wrapped me in his cold arms once again. "Bella, it's okay. He's not here. And Rosalie left, she's gone. I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not leaving you."

I grasped at his arms, as if my weak grip could keep him there. "Promise?" I whispered. The thought of Edward leaving me in this state terrified me even worse than Rosalie's suddenly dark eyes.

"I promise."

His voice rang with such sincerity that all doubt left my mind. Slowly, very slowly, I stood up and leaned heavily against Edward. "I'm sorry for that," I murmured. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, I'm sorry," he countered. "Rosalie's behavior was unacceptable."

I reluctantly lifted my head and looked around to see if she really had left. "Why was she so angry?"

Edward smiled sadly and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Come on. We're heading upstairs. Can you walk?"

I nodded. "I might need help, though."

His arm was still around me so I leaned against him as I walked to the staircase. My unsteady knees grew stronger with each step and soon I wasn't shaking anymore. Edward's hold became lighter and lighter until it was nothing but a light presence on the small of my back. It was comforting.

When we finally made it all the way up the stairs, he led me to the far end of the vast hallway. I noticed the open doors on our walk and I curiously peered into a few of them. No one was inside, but the interiors were light, full of deep colors. Everything was open, completely free and uninhibited.

We finally stopped at an oak door. Edward lifted his arm to knock and moments later a faint voice called, "Come in," from the other side.

The door opened. Carlisle Cullen was sitting behind a wide desk in the middle of a huge room lined with shelves and shelves of books. It looked like every picture I had ever seen of a college dean's office, but Carlisle was much too young to play the part.

The man himself looked up from the book he had been reading with a wide smile on his face. "Hello, Bella. It's very nice to see you again."

I nodded shyly. "You too, Dr. Cullen."

"Oh, I'm at home. Please call me Carlisle."

Edward led me to the seat in front of the desk and he took the seat next to me. "Carlisle, I was hoping you would tell her your story. Our story."

He sighed. "Alice said as much."

I turned my curious gaze toward Edward. "What's going on?"

But they kept talking as if they hadn't heard me. "Edward, are you sure this is the best idea? I have no objection to her—I'm just worried that she won't react as well as you think she might."

Edward sighed. "I just have a feeling, Carlisle. I can't explain it…but I know that she won't run away, and she won't tell anyone. She's trustworthy."

"I'm not questioning her trustworthiness, Edward. I'm worried about what she'll think after you tell her. How do you know she won't be terrified?"

Edward's glance flickered toward me and I unconsciously straightened in my chair.

"She's been through worse," he said firmly.

Carlisle turned his gaze towards me and I stared back at him, determined to prove myself. Edward was willing to trust me with what seemed like a huge secret and I wanted to show that they could tell me. I wouldn't tell a soul.

What he saw in my eyes must have convinced him, because he sighed, closed the book in his lap, and set it aside on his desk. Then he leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the desk. "In the seventeenth century, an English Anglican pastor began a vendetta against pure evil," Carlisle began in the most serious of voices. I unconsciously leaned forward, hanging onto every word. "He, like most of the people of his time, believed that monsters were real and was absolutely determined in his persecution of these creatures. He even convinced his son to join him in his campaign. His son had never been very passionate about his cause, but he was willing to please his father, so he very reluctantly joined the violent struggle. But unlike his father, this young man actually found a gathering of these monsters in a sewer in London. He led his mob into their hiding place, but he had greatly underestimated their strength. The battle lasted seconds, and the young man was left for dead in that dank sewer. He could feel a poison spreading in his veins and he knew—he knew that soon he would become a monster himself. Terrified of his father's reaction, he hid himself under a pile of rotting potatoes."

Carlisle was an amazing storyteller. Each word he spoke practically echoed with authority and he brought vivid clarity to the tale of this young man on his dangerous adventure. I felt as if I were practically there, watching as he was attacked and left to die.

"The pain that man felt was…excruciating. There were no words to truly describe the agony he endured. But with each passing day, he felt his strength slowly return and at the end of three days, he emerged from that pile of potatoes as a new man. He had indeed become one of the monsters his father so mercilessly persecuted." Carlisle paused to watch me, to gauge my reaction before he continued. I struggled to contain the eagerness in my expression.

"He had become a vampire."

I felt as if ice had been injected in my veins. It used to be such an innocuous word—I had never been one for ghost stories myself. But somehow, when Carlisle said it, I felt as if it carried much more weight than I would have originally believed.

"When he realized who he was, he loathed himself. He tried absolutely everything he could do destroy himself. He tried to drown himself, to hang himself, to shoot himself, but absolutely nothing worked. No mortal means of murder could end his life. So he decided to starve himself. He strayed far away from areas heavily populated by humans to avoid the temptation of drinking their blood. But as he was passing by a herd of deer, he caught whiff of their blood and could resist his thirst no longer; he attacked and drank the blood of every deer in the herd."

I sympathized with the young man; he hated himself so much that he wished to end his own life.

"Once his thirst had abated, he realized that he didn't have to live the life of a monster. He didn't have to live off the blood of humans; he could survive off the blood of animals. With this realization, he found purpose in his life and he set out in the world to find others like him and spread his philosophy."

For the next twenty minutes, Carlisle continued to tell the story of the young man. He described his journey with such incredible detail that I felt as if I were reliving it; I felt as if I were actually watching this man's tale unfold before my very eyes. I watched as he swam to France, studied medicine in Italy, found more civilized vampires, and traveled to the new world. I felt his constant conflict with who he was and his desire for companionship. My heart ached for him when he pondered the terrible choice to damn a young boy in Chicago to the same lifestyle he was subjected to so many years ago.

"But his mother demanded that the doctor do everything he could to save her son," Carlisle said. A small smile spread across his features. "So the doctor bit the dying boy and changed him into a vampire, and he became his new companion. The two of them found others over the years and their family grew larger. They continue to survive on animal blood and—with a few exceptions—they have stayed true to their creed."

His words stopped and I struggled to absorb the end of the story; words failed me for several moments as I slowly reacquainted myself with the present. In addition, my brain had been filled with so many strange images jumbled and mixed together that I had to take several moments to organize them in some sort of coherent order. When I finally finished processing the story, I looked up and stared straight into his dark gold eyes. "That was a very inspiring story, Carlisle," I began slowly, "but why are you telling me this?"

The smile on his face widened. "My dear, the young man in the beginning of the story was me. And the boy I saved in the small hospital in Chicago was Edward."

I felt my eyes widen as I turned to stare at the beautiful creature beside me. He was smiling cautiously, gauging my reaction.

I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept. "You…you're…you're _vampires_?"

They both nodded.

As I fought my natural disbelief, I felt something nagging me in the back of my brain. It was like there was something very important that I was overlooking—like a small detail that turned out to be a rather major one.

"When…when you say 'a few exceptions' do you mean…does that imply…?"

Carlisle nodded grimly. "There is a natural instinct, Bella, and sometimes it is very difficult to resist that instinct. But even the strongest fall off the wagon."

And then I remembered. "Edward," I said slowly, trying to gather the details from my memory, "when you told me that you murdered that man who raped and left a woman for dead in the alley, did you…?"

His eyes were instantly filled with self-disgust. "Yes," he sighed. "I drank his blood."

I shivered at the thought. The vision I previously had was replaced by Edward's tall, menacing figure standing over a dead body. His glorious angel's face was contorted in an expression of hatred while blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.

"Bella, we know that we're monsters," Edward began desperately, almost as if he was asking my forgiveness, "but we try so hard. I've denied my thirst for more than seventy years. I haven't tasted human blood for so long, no matter how intense the temptation. I'm trying so hard—so hard, Bella."

Something about his expression, his frantic, wretched expression tugged at my heartstrings. Without stopping to think of my actions, I reached across and placed my hand gently over his cold one. "I know, Edward," I whispered. "I believe you."

His smile was tragic. I abruptly had the irrational desire to leap from my chair and wrap my arms around his shoulder, to soothe away his intense anger toward himself. He never forgave himself for the blood he had spilt and it was in his self-hatred that I knew he was a good person. No, not just a good person—an amazing person with a kind soul; he sought revenge for random strangers and saved young women he hardly knew from runaway vehicles. He didn't deserve this.

A strange beeping sound interrupted the powerful silence. I jerked my hand back and whipped my head around to see Carlisle looking down at something in his hand.

"The hospital just paged," he announced. Then he looked at me with a kind smile. "Will you be all right, Bella?"

Would I? I wasn't running from the house screaming my head off yet; maybe I wouldn't after all. Edward didn't seem so terrifying, not now when his eyes were so full of anxiety over my reaction.

But in the end, he was right…I had been through much worse.

"I'll be fine, Carlisle," I said quietly. "Thank you so much for sharing your story. I promise I won't tell a soul."

His eyes softened. "I know you won't." He nodded to Edward and gracefully strode out of the room and a speed that no human could possess. Then I remembered that he wasn't human.

When he was gone, my inhuman companion turned to me, his face still worried. "So?" he prodded gently. "Do you hate me yet?"

I decided to throw his words back at him. "How could I hate you?" I said with a small smile. "Despite what you believe, Edward, you're not a monster. Not to me."

Suddenly, his face broke into one of the most angelic smiles I had ever seen in my life; it broke my heart with its intense beauty. "You continue to amaze me."

I blushed.

Edward abruptly began to laugh. "I suppose this means Alice won," he mused, mostly to himself. When he saw my confused expression, he explained. "Jasper, Emmett and Alice had a bet; Jasper and Emmett both said that you'd run from the house screaming after I told you, but Alice said that you'd keep a calmer head than that." He shook his head and chuckled helplessly. "They should have known better than to bet against Alice."

"What do you mean?"

He stood from his chair and he gestured for me to follow. I got up and followed him as he walked through the house. "Some vampires have extra abilities," he explained. "Carlisle thinks that our strongest human traits intensify during the transformation. Some traits manifest themselves in more subtle ways while some become something akin to superpowers."

I raised my eyebrows. "Superpowers?"

He grinned at me. "Yes, superpowers. Carlisle was incredibly compassionate as a human, so that only intensified during his transformation. That is an example of a subtle gift. But Alice has a much stronger gift; we're not quite sure about her human life because she doesn't remember any of it, but she must have had some sort of foresight because as a vampire she can see the future."

My eyes widened. "She can see the future?"

He nodded. "But it's a tricky business. The future constantly changes because people change their minds. Alice only sees the outcome of their decisions."

"Does anyone else in your family have a superpower?"

"Jasper does. As a human, he was incredibly charismatic and sensitive to other's feelings. As a vampire, he feels other people's emotions and he can manipulate them in ways he sees fit. For example, if an atmosphere is particularly high strung, he can calm those around him. Conversely, if a group of people feel lethargic or lazy, he can excite them. It's a very interesting gift."

I paused to look into his eyes. There was something he wasn't telling me—I could see it hidden in the shades of his dark gold irises.

"What about you?" I asked. "Do you have a superpower?"

He looked unsure for a very brief moment. "I had the uncanny ability to guess at what people were thinking as a human," he began slowly. "I was very sensitive to other people's thoughts. This sensitivity intensified as a vampire, and I can now hear people's thoughts."

I felt my heart stop.

Edward realized that I had stopped walking. He turned around in confusion, but immediately adopted a look of panic when he saw my expression. "Bella?" he asked apprehensively. "Bella, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

I struggled to speak. "You can…you can hear people's thoughts? You can hear my thoughts?" I cringed in horror at the idea; if he could hear me, then he would know what really happened to me. He would know everything.

"Oh, no," he immediately contradicted. "I can't hear your thoughts. You are the one exception."

My heart slowly started to beat again. "You're sure? You can't hear what I think?"

He shook his head, frowning a little. "No. For some reason, whenever I try to listen, I keep coming up blank. On your first day of school, when I tried to hear you think, I thought you were mentally challenged."

I felt my pulse strengthen and the blood return to my cheeks. "Oh. Thank goodness."

We continued walking through the house in silence. When we reached the front door, Edward turned to me. "Well…what would you like to do now?"

I bit my lip. "Well, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to go back to Charlie's. I do have perishables in the back of Rosalie's car, after all."

He smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll take you back right now."

We exited the front door and my eyes fell once again over the beautiful red convertible. Its flashy, streamlined appearance reminded me of its owner, and my mind wandered to her initial reaction when she saw me in Edward's presence.

When I slid into the car, I bit my lip hesitantly. "Edward?" I began, "Why was Rosalie so angry when she saw me? Does she hate me?"

He frowned and shook his head. "No, not at all. She doesn't hate you. She's…well she's angry that I told you our secret. She feels as if I've betrayed the family."

I immediately felt terrible. Rosalie was upset with her brother because of me. "You shouldn't have told me, then," I said quietly. "It wasn't worth getting in a fight with Rosalie."

"Don't worry about her, Bella," Edward said in as soothing a voice as he could. "We've been in fights before for much more trivial things."

"But she's never been this angry before, has she?"

He sighed. "No. No, she hasn't."

We spent the rest of the drive in silence. I was trying to properly absorb all that had been revealed to me today and Edward was trying to give me the chance. But that nagging feeling in the back of my mind persisted; it was something that I had looked over and forgotten so quickly that I hardly remembered it.

I looked up and saw Edward smiling at me. And that was when it hit me.

The very first day of school in biology, Edward sent me this terrifying glare with a pair of pitch black eyes. I registered the expression for only a moment because I was much too concerned with the eyes that sent me into a panic attack. But I still had seen that expression and my memory of it was not at all comforting.

"Edward," I began slowly, "that first day…in that biology class…"

He waited expectantly as I tried to find the words. "Yes?"

"I couldn't remember at first," I admitted, "but you…you had this really angry look on your face."

There was a pause. Then he sighed very heavily. "Yes. I was a little afraid that you would remember."

I was reluctant, but I knew I had to continue. "Carlisle said that there was a lot of temptation. Did that mean that you were…that you wanted…?"

He nodded grimly. When he took his hand off the steering wheel and turned in his seat to face me, I realized that we were back at Charlie's house. "It's a little hard to explain," he began. "But everyone has an individual scent; a certain flavor, if you will. Some smell more appealing than others, and yours…" He smiled sadly. "Well, you have the most amazing, most wonderful scent in the world. It was so tempting that I nearly took you right then and there in that class full of children."

My eyes widened. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. "Then why…why didn't you?"

He chuckled. "You hardly gave me the chance. I was still contemplating half-conceived notions of killing everyone in the room when you jumped up and left. I was away from your scent long enough to regain control and wonder at your strange reaction. I wasn't so self-absorbed to think that I was the sole cause and you had presented me with a bit of a challenge; since I couldn't hear your thoughts, I would have to resort to traditional means to know what you thought. So that night, I hunted for hours and hours until I was no longer thirsty to help me avoid the temptation. It didn't make it go away, not at all. That second biology class with you was pure torture—I didn't think I would make it through without killing you."

I listened in amazement and slight fear; I never would have thought I was capable of igniting that kind of reaction in anyone.

"But I managed to resist. And each day, it got a little easier. Part of it was because I was slowly getting used to your scent, but most of it was because of that pained look in your eyes. You always looked so broken, so anguished that I couldn't—I _wouldn't_—add to the agony you already felt. Even now, your smell is so alluring that every instinct within me screams at me to sink my teeth into your veins, but I could never bring myself to do that." His eyes shined with a sudden emotion, so powerful and so intense that it took my breath away. "I refuse to break you any further."

My breath caught in my throat. I didn't know what to say.

He reached across the small space to stroke my cheek with his cold fingers. "Isabella Marie Dwyer, I love you. And I swear, I will never, _ever_ let anything or anyone hurt you ever again."

**A/N - So I know that everyone's probably locked up in their rooms, feverishly reading _Breaking Dawn_, but I needed to post this before I ran off to New Zealand. So please leave some love for me to come home to!**

**Oh, and if you guys want a sneak peek of next chapter (since this was a rather cruel cliff hanger), you can check out my blog. It's listed as the website on my profile.**


	10. Close Your Eyes and Stay Awhile

**Close Your Eyes and Stay Awhile**

My ears were ringing. My mind was reeling in complete and utter shock.

_He_ loves me. He _loves_ me. He loves _me_.

There was a pounding in my ears and a throbbing in my chest. I could hardly believe it; Edward Cullen, the most beautiful creature in the entire world, loves me. I was truly speechless.

But Edward wasn't at all fazed. He just smiled, not expecting me to say anything in return. "We should probably get inside. You don't want the eggs to spoil." And he got out of the car, leaving me still shocked in the passenger's seat. It wasn't until I realized he was waiting expectantly on the front porch that I even contemplated getting out of the car.

When I finally got out and walked to the front door, Edward carried in the groceries for me without being asked. I followed him, dumbstruck and speechless.

In my dazed state, I slowly walked to the kitchen and barely watched as that beautiful creature flew all over the kitchen, putting away the groceries with absolutely no direction from me. A small part of my brain wondered a little suspiciously how he knew where I kept everything, but the majority of my mind was still preoccupied with his shocking confession.

When he was finished, he took the seat next to me and smiled. It was around this time that I finally regained my voice. "Edward," I rasped, a little desperately, "I don't think—"

"Bella," he interrupted me smoothly with a deeply reassuring look on his face, "I don't expect you to say anything now. I want you to think about it very carefully. Everything has been happening so quickly that you haven't had any time to process this and I respect that. You need time, and I'm not going to pressure you to tell me how you feel immediately." And suddenly his eyes were burning with such intense ferocity that for a split-second, I forgot where I was. "But I want you to know that somehow in the midst of all of this, I fell in love with you. I fell so far, so deep that I didn't realize it until it was over. I've passed the point of no return, Bella."

Those were sentiments for which girls all over the country pined. There were women who would have killed just to hear someone as handsome as Edward whisper those words passionately to them. But I must have been the luckiest of them all, because _I_ was the one experiencing it. Edward Cullen, arguably the most gorgeous creature in the known universe, was telling me that he loved _me_. And what was more, he told me he didn't even expect me to love him back.

But he wasn't anywhere near finished. "I know that you've been through so much. Your life changed in a matter of moments and you were left alone to gather the pieces and put them back together. But you're not alone anymore. I'm here. I'm here and I will stay here with you."

A lump hardened in my throat and tears began to well in my eyes. His words were so beautiful, so absolutely perfect that I felt my heart shattering in my chest, almost as if it were made of glass. And in some ways, it was almost as if I had been waiting my whole life to hear him say that.

And there were so many things that I had trouble accepting: the fact that he and his family were actually vampires, the fact that he was as beautiful as he was, the fact that he was here with me, the fact that he loved me…but there was one thing that I believed unequivocally. I knew, without a single doubt, that he would always be there for me. If I needed him, he would not hesitate to rush to my side.

"Thank you," I finally whispered as I hastily wiped the tears from my streaming eyes. There was so much more to say, so much more that I felt obligated to tell him, but I couldn't find the words to express it. I couldn't tell him how much I had come to rely on him in the course of six days.

Edward very carefully reached a pale hand to help wipe away the last of the moisture on my face. I felt a shiver when his cold skin touched my face. "You never need to thank me."

We stayed there, staring at each other and wordlessly expressing what we were feeling. Being anywhere near him always made me feel lighter, a little less weighted and heavy. His mere presence often made me forget why I was in Forks in the first place.

Eventually, I realized that Charlie would come back any minute, so I started on his dinner. While I was in the kitchen, Edward was next to me, helping me slice vegetables and grimacing at the stovetop every so often. I smiled a tiny bit and asked, "Does it really smell that bad?"

"Just to me," he said very lightly. "I find human food mildly disgusting."

I chuckled for the first time in months. The action lifted a bit of the heaviness on my chest and made the smile on Edward's face grow wider. "I could say the same thing about your diet," I teased shyly. "To each his own, I guess."

He turned abruptly solemn. "So you're not horrified? You don't think I'm a monster?"

I never thought Edward would be so insecure about who he really was, so I sought to reassure him. "I don't think you're a monster," I told him. "Would monsters save me from wayward vans?"

He smiled. "I suppose not."

Charlie came back just when I was finishing up. "Bella?" he called as he walked into the house.

"Hello, Charlie," I greeted him when he entered the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, shocked at both the fact that I had greeted him and at Edward Cullen's presence in his house.

"Hello, Chief Swan," the man in question greeted courteously.

"Edward helped me run some errands today," I added for my guardian's benefit. "And he offered to help me make dinner."

"I hope you don't mind," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Charlie eventually found his voice. "No, not at all," he shook his head. "I—I'm just glad that Bella didn't have to spend the day alone. Why don't you stay for dinner, Edward? The least I could do is feed you."

Edward and I exchanged amused grins at his seemingly-innocent words. In the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie's expression brighten.

"I would love to stay for dinner," he finally answered with much grace. I shot him a confused look, but he only smiled at me in return. "I'm sure Carlisle and Esme won't mind."

"Good," Charlie said satisfactorily. "I'm just going to get cleaned up. I'll be down in a minute."

When he was well out of earshot, I turned to Edward with raised eyebrows. "Can you even eat human food?" I demanded.

His smile quickly turned into a playful grimace. "I _can_…it's just a rather unpleasant experience. Emmett wasn't lying when he said those welcome casseroles tasted like dirt."

"So what will you do?"

He shrugged. "I'll just move the food around on the plate and pretend like I ate. It seems to work for young children all the time."

It turned out that it _did_ work. Charlie hadn't paid nearly as much attention to his food as he did to what Edward said. Quite frankly, I was entranced as well. I shouldn't have been surprised at this point; I had spent enough time with him to know that he was naturally (even supernaturally) charming. He dazzled everyone around him with his amazing good looks and his charming, courteous manners. And, as Charlie clearly proved, it worked on males as well.

At that moment, the two of them were discussing college football. I was paying more attention to Edward than I was to the conversation, but it gave me time to think about the strange turn of events my life had taken in the last five hours.

First of all, I learned that vampires existed, and the Cullens were probably the largest family of vampires in the world. I suppose this fact should have scared me to death, but I couldn't compel myself to feel the proper amount of terror. Vampires were supposed to be creatures that haunted people's dreams; they were the subject of horror films and literature since the beginning of time. But how could Edward be terrifying to me? Or Carlisle, for that matter? How could I see them as monsters when they struggled so fiercely against the instincts of their kind?

And perhaps the most shocking of all news, I learned that Edward Cullen loved me. Someone as perfect and amazing as Edward couldn't love me. He deserved more than I could ever give him. He deserved to love someone who could keep up with him, someone who was whole. Someone who wasn't broken.

When dinner was finished and Charlie had retreated into the living room, I was left to wash the dishes with Edward at my side. It was a little disconcerting because the moment I finished rinsing a dish and handed it to him, he dried it instantly and put it away, waiting patiently for the next one. I probably should have let him do the dishes by himself; he would have completed the task much more quickly.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you," I declared when the dishes were finished.

He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"You're so…" I struggled to find the words to describe him. "You're so different from anyone I've ever met. And it's not just the fact that you're not human…it's the other stuff too. You do things that people wouldn't or aren't willing to do. Like when you stayed in the hospital with me…if I had told anyone else to go away, they would have. But you didn't. You stayed."

His eyes softened as he reached toward me and stroked my cheek. My breath hitched in my throat when his skin touched mine and I felt electricity shoot through my veins. "I couldn't leave you there alone," he whispered. "You've been alone for too long."

I bit my lip and looked around the kitchen. I didn't know what to do; now that dinner was over and the dishes were finished, there wasn't a reason for him to stay any longer. But the thought of him leaving was unbearable.

"Do you want to come up to my room?" I blurted before I could stop myself.

His face broke into a wide grin. "Yes. I'd like that a lot."

He followed me as I walked up the narrow staircase. My heart was hammering away in my chest, threatening to burst out of my ribcage. Edward probably could have heard it, even if he didn't have superhuman hearing.

When we got to my room, he started to look around at my belongings and I stood at the foot of my bed, holding my arms a little awkwardly. He wandered toward my bookcase and started looking through my collection.

"It's not very big," I said sheepishly. "I only have the classics and a few contemporary stuff. I haven't read anything in a while."

"There's nothing wrong with the classics," he said as he pulled _Jane Eyre_ off the shelf. "Which one's your favorite?"

I walked over to my bookshelf and pulled off my copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. It was easily the most weathered book in my collection. "I know it's kind of cliché for girls to love it, but I can't help it. Jane Austen's probably my favorite author."

He grinned. "Mine as well. She depicts the family life very accurately."

I allowed myself a small grin. "I think her individual characterizations are brilliant. Jane was the sweet one, Elizabeth was the stubborn one, Mary was the bookworm and Kitty and Lydia were flighty. It all makes complete sense and they all fit together so perfectly. And Darcy's character was so complex, much more so than Elizabeth. They complemented each other and she knew that. I think that's what makes Austen one of the greatest authors of all time."

Edward's eyes warmed. "I think Elizabeth is more complex than you give her credit for."

I frowned. "I disagree. She was very vocal in her opinions; she said what she was thinking, no matter who was offended. She rarely hid anything or kept anything secret. She was a very open person."

"True, she was very open. But she has a very complex way of thinking. She was always overprotective of her family and she wasn't taken in by Darcy's good looks and riches when everyone else was. She turned him down when he first proposed when any other girl would have said yes in an instant, no matter how repulsive she found him. She was truly a visionary for her time and a very dynamic character."

I shrugged. "Sure, back _then_ she was a visionary. But now, we're all so used to the story, we find it a bit cliché. Which is another reason I like the book so much; it was the first story to come out about a girl who could think for herself."

He nodded. "You have a point." Then he turned his attention to the box of CDs I had sitting next to my stereo. He pulled out one of the CDs and examined the cover. "I never would have guessed that you listened to Linkin Park."

My heart squeezed, but not as painfully as it usually did. "My father used to love them," I said as I examined the art over his arm. "He gave me that CD for my last birthday."

Edward's expression was solemn but a little amused at the same time, a feat that was not easily managed, I imagine. "Really? Not very many adults I know would enjoy Linkin Park."

I couldn't help but grin a little. "Phil loved Linkin Park; in fact, he liked a lot of alternative bands. Some of his favorites were Muse and Foo Fighters. Renee wasn't particularly fond of either of them, but she put up with them just for him."

He wrinkled his nose. "I was never as fond of Foo Fighters as everyone else was. I certainly think they're talented and I appreciate a few of their songs, but they're a little overrated."

The hole in my chest throbbed a little. "It's a good thing that Phil will never hear you say that." I smiled sadly. "He loved them. He even offered to take my friends and me to one of their concerts. When I told the kids I sat with at lunch, their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets."

Edward put the CD away. "Did you have a lot of friends in Phoenix?"

I shrugged. "Not really. I talked to a few kids in my classes and I sat with a few of them at lunch. We had very pleasant conversations, but nothing more than that. None of them were what I'd call a best friend; I was too close to my parents to have other friends."

He frowned. "You never spent time with other people your age?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I didn't relate to the other kids. I still don't. We always have different interests, and we always think differently. Not even my parents could relate to me completely, and they were my best friends."

"But didn't that make you feel…incomplete?"

I sighed. "All the time. But what was I going to do? Force someone to think like me just so I would get along with them? That's not fair to them."

Suddenly, he took my hands in his. "But it's not fair to you, either. I never realized how lonely you were until now. You've been alone your whole life, haven't you?"

The blood rushed to my cheeks and I abruptly looked away. "What about you?" I asked. "Haven't you been alone? It's always been Carlisle and Esme, Rosalie and Emmett, Alice and Jasper. Didn't you ever feel left out?"

He shrugged. "I'll admit, there were moments when I would have liked to have had a partner, but I eventually resigned myself to the impossibility." The longing in his voice was very faint, but I could still hear it. "After decades, I had learned to be content with just my family for company." Then he turned his warm eyes to me and I felt my insides slowly melt. "But I doubt you've had as much practice as I have."

"Perhaps," I murmured. "But I've gotten used to it too."

He reached for my hands and held them in his. "You shouldn't have to settle for it. You deserve more than that."

His words cut through me. They were the words that I so longed to hear, the ones that I needed to hear more than ever. But for some reason, they hurt. They made the hole inside of my chest ache and throb as tears sprang to my eyes.

"Bella?" he whispered. "Oh, no…" His gentle fingers were suddenly wiping the tears off my face and I struggled to restrain my reaction. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I didn't mean to cry at all," I murmured.

But what he had told me was something I had struggled with for so long. He was right; I had been alone my entire life, but for the past three months, I started to believe that this loneliness was something I deserved. If I had tried harder, if I had done something differently, then my mother and father would both still be alive. But that was not the case. I did what I did, and now I was reaping the benefits. My loneliness was the consequence of my decisions and actions, and I would have to deal with this for the rest of my life.

As I looked into those gentle, warm gold orbs, I felt myself panic slightly. How could someone so beautiful, so wonderful and amazing love someone like me? He said I deserved something greater, but he didn't know…he couldn't realize the extent of my damage. If he knew, would he still love me? Would he still say I deserved more?

"Edward," I whispered, "Don't you think…I mean, haven't you thought that maybe…maybe it's a mistake?"

He frowned. "What's a mistake?"

"That you love me?"

His mouth pressed into a firm line, but his eyes softened. "Bella," he whispered my name with such a soft caress that my knees nearly buckled right then and there. "Loving you could never be a mistake. Do you realize how long I've been waiting to meet someone like you? You asked me earlier if I had ever felt lonely. The truth is I never thought I was. I thought I was complete within myself; little did I know that the holes inside of me had been there since I was born. Little did I know that I would have to wait over a hundred years before you could fill them. And now that I'm here, whole and happy, there's no way I could look at this and see this as a mistake. I love _you_. And even if you don't love me back, I can at least content myself to soak in the radiance of your presence."

Then he stepped away and let my hands drop to their sides. I immediately felt disappointed; I wanted to touch him again, and never let him go. This thought greatly disturbed me.

"You've learned a lot today," he said gently. "I think I'll leave you now, to get some sleep and absorb the information. But remember don't hesitate to call me if you need me. I'll be here in an instant."

I bit my lip, but nodded. As much as I was reluctant to let him leave, he was right; I needed some time alone to think about all that was revealed to me.

I led him down the staircase and he went into the living room to thank Charlie for allowing him to stay. When they finished exchanging goodbyes, I walked him back out to Rosalie's car. "Goodnight, Bella," he whispered. He took my right hand and pressed his cold, white lips against my knuckles and I shivered at the touch.

"Goodnight," I replied.

Without taking his eyes off me, he opened the car door, climbed in and backed out of the driveway. I stood there on the porch and watched him drive off into the distance. I didn't move until the roar of the engine had faded into the night.

After standing there, staring at the empty spot that shiny red convertible had once been for almost ten minutes, I turned back around and went into the house. When I got back to my room, I collapsed back into the rocking chair and closed my eyes.

How could this be happening? Vampires had never been real; my mother struggled to convince me of that fact throughout my entire childhood. Even now that Edward was gone, it was hard to believe their existence. But when Edward was here, it was so easy to accept; his inhuman beauty, his ethereal grace, and the way he never seemed to eat.

And perhaps the greatest indicator of his true nature was that strange vibe he gave; when I first met him, I felt a natural, instinctual aversion to him. Even when he told me about killing that man, I wanted to run. His eyes looked so dark and dangerous; eyes so similar to another pair…

No, I thought firmly. I will not think of that. Not tonight.

Then, for the very first time in three months, I decided to go to sleep. As much as I hated to admit it, my subconscious knew me better than I knew myself. If I wanted to learn how I really felt about this whole situation, it would be best to let my dreams figure that out for me.

After preparing to go to sleep, I took the quilt off the untouched bed and wrapped it around myself as I curled up in the rocking chair. In less than no time, I was asleep, drifting into the dark corridors of my unconscious mind.

_I heard footsteps echoing all around me. I whipped my head in every direction, to see where they were coming from. A shadow shifted in the dark distance and my heart pounded as the sound of footfalls came ever closer._

_As the figure came closer and closer, I realized it was Edward. His copper hair was splayed untidily over his forehead and stood out brilliantly against his pale skin. The lovely gold of his eyes shined with such intense emotion that I almost had to look away from his expression. Even in my dream, he was so incredibly lovely._

_Suddenly, someone walked up from behind me. I never got a clear look at her face because her long brown hair swayed in front of it, but from what I could see, she was beautiful. She had a lovely, peaches and cream skin tone and she was slender and delicate. And she had a curtain of ruler straight, mahogany colored hair cascading down her back._

_She walked up to Edward, who seemed to recognize her. His eyes lit up in happiness, anyway, when he saw her. To my intense annoyance, I felt a wave of jealousy wash over me. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I wanted him to look at_ me _that way. Not some random girl._

_"I was wondering when you would show up," he told her._

_"I was waiting for you," she replied. There was something so familiar about her voice…something I couldn't put my finger on._

_Then Edward bent forward and kissed her. I felt my heart squeeze tightly and the despair well in my throat. Didn't he say he loved me? What happened to those pretty words he gave me this afternoon? Was I so easily forgotten in the presence of a prettier woman?_

_The kiss lasted for what seemed like a lifetime. My heart shattered into smaller and smaller shards with each passing second. Perhaps this was why I was so reluctant to get close to Edward; I would inevitably end in pieces._

_When he finally pulled away, his angelic face broke out into a wide smile. "Have I told you how much I love you today?"_

_The woman laughed; the sound seemed to fill the darkness with warmth and I felt such a sharp sense of longing pierce me. "Yes, you have. But it's nice to hear again, nonetheless."_

_"Then I love you. I love you so much."_

_"I love you too. More than words can ever express."_

_The scene unfolded before me with such heart wrenching, poetic expression, and I couldn't stand it. For some reason, the thought of Edward proclaiming his love to someone else made me sick and desperate. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't help the fact._

_"Are you ready to go?" he asked her._

_"Yes," she replied. Then she turned around._

_I gasped. The girl I had been envying was none other than myself; she was the same reflection I had stabbed several nights before. "Bella?" she asked. "Are you coming?"_

_I stood speechless. I had been envying the version of me from three months ago this whole time._

_When I hadn't said anything, she pulled herself from Edward's embrace and walked toward me. "Bella," she whispered with the loveliest, most inviting smile on her face. "Now is your chance. If you give this up, you'll never get another one." She reached up and wiped away the tears I hadn't realized already began to fall. "Come on, Bella. Don't let this opportunity pass you by. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't." She held out her hand, inviting me to take it._

_I hesitated. Did I trust myself? Could I trust myself ever again?_

_Then I looked up at Edward. His eyes were so soft, so loving. His smile made his already handsome face all the more angelic. I knew that if it were within my power, I would make sure that he looked that happy for the rest of his life. He deserved that much._

_I looked back at my reflection. She, too, looked happy. Her grin showed a contentment greater than what she felt when she was happy and whole, living a perfectly cheerful life in Phoenix, Arizona with two parents who doubled as best friends. She was undamaged and unspoiled. It was as if the darkness of Alan Vickers had never even touched her._

_She was right. This was my last chance; this was the very last chance I would ever get to fix what was broken. So I took a deep breath and slipped my hand in hers._

_She smiled. "Welcome back, Bella," she whispered, before leaning forward and pressing her lips on my forehead._

My eyes snapped open and my reflection disappeared. Instead, I faced the dark window, overlooking the tops of the trees that made up the small forest surrounding the house.

Just as I predicted, my subconscious knew how I felt. Somehow, in the midst of all this insanity, in the impossible span of six short days, I had fallen in love with Edward Cullen. I had let my guard down enough to allow him to penetrate my defenses, and now that there was no going back, I knew I was in love with him. And the greatest part of it was he loved me as well.

However, I was not worthy of his love. Not yet. But I would be.

**A/N - Yay for progress!**

**As always, I heart reviews. I also have a lovely writer's blog (listed as the website on my profile) that has a magical sneak peek of the next chapter. So feel free to check it out!**


	11. To Take Me Where You Go

**To Take Me Where You Go**

My fingers shook violently as I held the phone in my hand. Charlie went fishing which left me in the house alone. A good thing too, because if he were there, I don't think I would have been able to do it.

When I finally managed to punch in the correct numbers in the correct sequence, I held the phone to my ear and breathed in deeply. The line rang exactly twice before it picked up. "Hello?" a deep voice on the other end greeted.

"Uh, Dr. Levsky?" I croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Dr. Levsky? This is Bella Dwyer."

"Oh, Bella." He sounded pleased. "What can I do for you?"

I couldn't believe I was doing this. Asking for his help felt like giving up. But if I was going to face this, if I was going to make myself worthy to be with Edward, this was what I had to do. "Um…I was kind of hoping that you could come around some time…to…to talk, I guess."

"Any particular reason?"

I sighed. "Look, Dr. Levsky, I'm tired. I'm tired of living like this, and I figure since you offered, you'd be the best person to help me through this."

He paused. "Bella, do you really mean this? Are you ready to finally face this?"

I swallowed. Was I ready to face it? No. Did I mean it? One hundred percent.

"I really mean this, Dr. Levsky. I'm…not exactly ready to talk, but I'm trying to get there. And I need help."

He paused once more. Then he said, "All right. I know that Mrs. Andrews and the Detectives were going to pay a visit to you sometime this week. I'll go with them when they come to visit you."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Thanks, Dr. Levsky."

"You're welcome, Bella. I'll talk to you soon."

"Yeah. Bye."

The next day, I showed up at school to the sound of whispers. Predictably they were all discussing last week's accident. I hoped to have avoided some of that, but it seemed inevitable; this was such a small town that an accident (planned or not) would probably have made the front page for several days.

As I was walking to my first class, Edward walked up to me and stayed by my side. "Hello," he greeted with a small smile.

My heart thumped in my chest at the sound of his voice and the sight of his face. Would I truly ever get used to his immense beauty? "Hello," I greeted back.

"How was your Sunday?" he asked politely.

"Uneventful. How was yours?"

He shrugged. "The same. Rosalie and I fought a bit. Then Jasper and I went hunting."

My heart sank. "You fought with Rosalie?"

"It's happened before."

"But not because of me," I pointed out. "I hate that you're in an argument with your family over me."

"Not my entire family," he corrected. "Just Rosalie. Don't worry about her, Bella. She'll come around soon." Then his expression turned solemn. "So how are you?"

His concern for my well-being touched me. Every moment spent with Edward melted a little bit of the ice in my heart. "I'm better," I said truthfully. It was the first sentence I uttered in the past three months that wasn't tainted with a lie.

His expression melted into a grin as he took my hand in his. "I'm glad."

The bell rang and I felt a sense of abrupt sadness. He must have felt it too because his eyes slanted downward in a disappointed expression. "I'll save you a seat at lunch," he promised as he walked away.

An unfamiliar emotion welled in my chest; it felt vaguely like hope. But then again, I couldn't exactly be sure, since it had been a very long time since I last felt it.

The morning passed much too slowly for my taste. For the very first time since I arrived at Forks, I hardly paid attention to a single word the teachers said; all I could think about was Edward's promise to sit with me at lunch.

It was as Mr. Varner was talking about right triangles that I realized how fast all of this had happened; if you had told me two weeks ago that I would fall in love with a vampire, I would have referred you to a mental hospital. In fact, two weeks ago I didn't even think I was capable of falling in love. But Edward had this quality about him—there was something about his personality that made it very difficult not to love him. Or maybe it was just me.

When the bell finally rang to signify the end of Spanish, I rushed out of the classroom only to find Edward leaning next to the doorway with an easygoing smile on his face. "Hello," he greeted warmly.

For the very first time in a very long time, I felt myself actually smile and a part of the hole in my chest slowly mended. "Hi," I replied shyly.

There was a sudden intense expression in Edward's eyes that I didn't quite understand. He was very quiet for a few moments before he pushed himself away from the wall and gestured toward the cafeteria. "Let's go," he said. That powerful look never left his eyes.

When we went through the line, Edward started piling a bunch of food on his tray and I raised my eyebrows suspiciously at him. "Half is for you, right?"

He smirked. "Of course."

"Then you'd better eat it," I threatened jokingly.

He chuckled.

When we finished paying for the food, we walked to the very far corner of the cafeteria. My usual table was empty and I took the seat closest to the window.

"Take anything you like," he offered as he pushed the tray closer to me. My eyes examined the pile of food on the tray. After carefully considering the limits of my stomach, I pulled the plate of pizza closer to me.

"How much do you spend on food that you don't even eat?" I asked aloud.

"The usual amount any human would, I suppose," he replied with a shrug. "It's a bit of a waste, but we try to give it away as much as we can."

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but to my intense surprise, Alice Cullen appeared out of nowhere and sat down next to me. "Hello, Bella," she greeted with her own tray of food. "You don't mind if my siblings join you two, do you?"

"Uh…" was my intelligent response. Edward merely glared at his sister and huffed impatiently. "No, I don't mind at all."

She beamed. "Good." And the minute she said that, the other three Cullens set their trays down on the table and took their seats.

"Hello, Bella," a deep voice boomed quietly (if that was even possible). I looked up and my eyes widened at the largest, most intimidating figure I had ever seen in my entire life. He had the frame of an intense body builder and muscles that bulged underneath his tight clothing. But like the rest of his family, he was inhumanly beautiful with gentle gold eyes and a very wide grin. "I'm Emmett. It's nice to meet you."

"I-it's nice to m-meet you too," I stammered in slight awe. I couldn't get over how big he was.

"I'm Jasper," a quiet voice said from the other side of Alice. I turned my gaze and noticed a brooding blonde figure; he had the intensity of a male model.

"It's very nice to meet you," I said sincerely. I felt calmer when greeting him, and I had a sneaking suspicion that this would not have been my natural reaction.

"I had a vision that you would meet the whole family during lunch," Alice informed me very matter-of-factly, as if we had known each other for years.

"Because you made us," Emmett laughed.

The tiny, pixie-like creature stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Then I turned my gaze to the gorgeous creature sitting as far away from Edward as was possible. How could someone so gorgeous even exist? Her already shining blonde hair glowed in the dim cafeteria light, her pale, graceful features watching me with a strange curiosity. Rosalie's ocher eyes regarded me with a peculiar expression; almost as if she were asking me an unanswered question. Without noticing, I stared back at her, wondering what she was thinking.

Edward must have sensed my discomfort because he very suddenly broke the silence with a question. "Are you planning on going to the school dance, Bella?"

The words jumpstarted my brain and I ripped my eyes away from his sister. "School dance?" I asked bewilderedly. "There's a school dance?"

"Yeah. It's been the hot topic all over the school," Alice added. "Haven't you seen the posters?"

I hadn't. I was too focused on either Edward or myself to notice anything else at school. But when she mentioned the posters, I looked around the cafeteria and noticed the brightly colored fliers decorated with glitter and other various forms of adornment to capture the interest of the student body.

"It's girl-ask-boy," continued Alice. "The whole school's been going crazy with speculation about it. The girls are clamoring to ask Mike Newton or Tyler Crowley first."

I vaguely remembered the spiky haired boy that tried very hard to be my friend last week. Sure, he was cute, but he was nothing compared to Edward.

"Why aren't they clamoring to ask you?" I demanded, turning my attention to the man himself. He glanced away, almost as if he were embarrassed.

Emmett and Alice snickered. "A couple of the braver ones asked last year," Emmett explained, "but he just said no."

I felt jealousy flare up within me. Jasper turned his gaze to my direction and raised his eyebrows and Edward looked at him then me with a mixed expression of amusement and curiosity. "Why did you say no?" I asked, trying to smother the resentment in my tone.

"Because they were boring," he shrugged. "Anyway, you never answered my question. Are you planning on going?"

I shook my head. "I can't dance."

He scoffed. "Everyone can dance. Besides, it's all in the leading."

I sighed. "No, you really don't understand. I can't dance at all." Then I pushed the sleeve up on my right arm and showed him a long scar that ran from my elbow and wound around my forearm. "See this? This was from when I fell and broke the mirrors in my very first ballet class when I was in first grade. It took twelve stitches to close this up."

Emmett's laughter boomed through the cafeteria.

"Perhaps it's a good thing she's not going after all," he agreed through his chuckles. "The casualties would be catastrophic."

Edward sighed. "Perhaps," he mumbled.

Jasper smiled. "He just wanted you to ask him."

My eyes widened as Alice giggled and Edward glared at his brother. I could feel the red spread through my cheeks and I quickly turned my attention to my pizza.

Suddenly Edward groaned. I looked up and noticed a curly haired girl walking toward the table. I vaguely recognized her as one of the girls in my Spanish class…Jessica something. But what surprised me was the fact that her face was bright red with embarrassment.

I frowned in confusion. "What's going—?" but my question was cut off by Alice shaking her head very firmly. Then she watched Jessica's progress with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

After what seemed like years, she finally made it to the table. "H-hi," she greeted to everyone with a wobbly smile. "U-uh, Edward? Do you th-think I could talk t-to you alone?"

My heart sank with jealousy, but Edward simply gestured to the rest of us. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of all of us."

She obviously did not want to say whatever she had to in front of us, but she had no choice. Jessica took in a deep breath before finally spitting it out. "Edwardwillyougotothedancewithme?"

Her words were so shaky and so fast that I hardly understood a single syllable, but I had gathered enough information from the awkward social situation to surmise her purpose. On my left, Alice's lips quirked upward and she looked away from the poor girl.

Edward, on the other hand, smiled very charmingly at Jessica. For a brief moment, I saw her eyes light up with something that looked like hope as my heart sank deeper into my chest.

"I'm sorry, Jessica, but I'm afraid I can't." He sounded only politely apologetic.

Her face fell and a small part of me sympathized with her. However, the greater part of me was rejoicing much too loudly to acknowledge the former part. "That's all right," she murmured. "Did someone else ask you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," he replied. Then he threw a mischievous grin in my direction before continuing. "Bella asked me the day before yesterday. I hope you understand."

My jaw dropped in horror, so I was too preoccupied to notice the look of unadulterated loathing Jessica shot at me. "Don't worry about it, Edward. I understand. After all, there's always prom." Then she turned on her heel and practically ran away.

The moment she was gone, Edward's polite smile turned into a grimace.

I, however, was still reeling in shock, bordering on slight rage. "Why in the world did you tell her I asked you?" I hissed. "Now she'll be expecting us to go!"

Edward and the rest of his siblings snickered. "That was the point."

"But I wasn't even planning on going!"

"Bella, I _saved_ you. Just because the dance is billed as a girl-ask-boy affair doesn't mean that the boys weren't going to ask you." His expression suddenly darkened. "There were several boys that were planning on asking you, actually. Jessica Stanley has the biggest mouth in the entire school, so by the end of the day everyone will know that you asked me to the dance and you're already taken."

I wasn't aware that my jaw was dropped wide open until Emmett reached over and closed it for me. "You looked like a blowfish," he informed me.

I was too shocked to even reply. Too much had happened too quickly.

"I'll take you shopping for a dress," Alice chirped. "It'll be fun!"

"That's not what I'm worried about," I muttered, finally over my speechlessness. The initial shock gave way to my intense embarrassment and a dark red spread across my face.

"Then what _are_ you worried about?" Edward asked in a voice that made him too irresistible. That velvety tone mixed with the grip of his eyes pulled me into a trance so complete that I couldn't possibly look away.

There were many things I was worried about: I was terrified of tripping and falling on my face, of causing a mass casualty at a high school dance. But chief among these terrifying scenarios was the fact that Alan Vickers might find me. He could find me and take me back. It didn't matter that he had been arrested; no amount of concrete and steel could hold that monster. He was hell bent on finding me and imprisoning me once more.

Edward seemed to understand my quiet desperation because he took my hand in his. "Bella, I promise you that you will be safe the entire night. I won't let you out of my sight for even a second. No one will be able to get to you without having to go through me first."

"We'll keep an eye out for you too, Bella," Alice promised. "And I don't foresee anything happening at the dance. You'll be fine." All around her, the rest of her family nodded their reassurances…even Rosalie.

My throat swelled with emotion at the thought of his entire family watching out for me. I was so incredibly grateful that I couldn't find the words to express it.

"Thank you," I finally whispered hoarsely. "That really means a lot."

Alice immediately clapped her hands. "Oh, this is so exciting! I have to take you shopping sometime. Where will we go? We can't go to Port Angeles…maybe Seattle. Or Olympia!"

I was saved from having to answer her. The bell rang and we all stood up to throw away our unfinished lunches. The moment we were out the door, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper all went their separate ways while Edward and I trekked through the drizzle to our biology class.

"So does this mean you'll go?" Edward asked the moment his siblings were gone.

I sighed. "You didn't leave me with much of a choice."

He grinned widely. "Don't worry about it. You'll have a great time."

"I hope so. When is it, anyway?"

"Next Saturday," he replied. "That gives you enough time to find a dress."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you have any preferences?" I asked sarcastically.

"I'll just let Alice surprise me."

By that time we already reached our classroom. When we took our seats, Edward started laughing. "Mike Newton's disappointed," he informed me when I raised my eyebrows at him. "He was so sure that you would ask him to the dance."

I rolled my eyes. "Not likely. I wasn't even planning on asking anyone."

At that point, Mr. Banner walked into the classroom and started the lecture. Edward handed me a copy of immaculately written notes from the classes I had missed so I was able to follow along. I spent the next hour trying to pay attention to what the teacher said as opposed to the beautiful creature sitting on my left. It was especially difficult whenever tingles crawled across my skin, telling me that he was watching my every movement.

All too soon biology was over and I had to go to gym. We had already moved past the rules of badminton and Coach Clapp armed me with a racquet. I tried my best, but my natural clumsiness got in the way. Eventually, I stood to the side and let my partner field all of the shots so as not to cause anyone anymore physical harm.

When I was finished changing, Edward was already standing outside the changing room waiting for me. My heart sped up at the sight of his lovely face and his mouth broke out into a wide, uneven grin. "Hello."

"Hi," I replied breathlessly.

"Would you like me to accompany you home?" he asked. "I gave Alice the keys to take everyone else back to our house."

I nodded as we walked to the parking lot. "Whose car did you use today?"

"Mine," he replied. "I bought a new car."

I looked over at the spot next to mine to see a shiny, dark blue Honda Acura and my heart sank with guilt. "So I take it that the Volvo was beyond repair?"

He growled. "Unfortunately, yes."

"I'm so sorry," I murmured with my head down.

But Edward wouldn't let me look away. I felt his cold fingertips reach underneath my chin to force me to look into his eyes. "Why are you sorry?" he asked.

"It's my fault that you had to buy a new car," I explained. "You had to waste a bunch of money all because of me."

"No, it's not your fault," he insisted firmly. "It's that cretin's fault. You are not to blame. Besides, the money was never an issue."

"But—"

"No buts. Now are you going to drive, or will you allow me?"

I sighed, but didn't say anything. Instead, I pulled the keys from out of my backpack and climbed into the car. Edward was on his side in less than a second, waiting patiently for me to start the engine.

"You're such a show off," I muttered as I stuck the keys in the ignition and turned. The corners of his mouth simply curled into a self-satisfied smirk in reply.

When we got back to Charlie's house, Edward was at my door in an instant, opening it for me and helping me out of the elevated seat. My heart started to pound furiously in my chest and continued to do so long after he set me on the ground. I was sure he could hear it because he had a very smug look on his face.

"Would you like to come inside?" I asked breathlessly.

One corner of his mouth lifted upward into a crooked, uneven smile and my pounding heart abruptly stuttered. "I never thought you'd ask."

I led the way up the porch and unlocked the door. He followed me through the hallway and into the tiny kitchen table. "Would you like to work on some homework?" he asked.

If it meant he would stay here longer, then absolutely. "Sure," I nodded as I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my trig book. "There were some things in class that I didn't understand. Could you help me?"

"Certainly."

I suddenly felt a little lighthearted, despite my nervousness. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not being a very good host," I said a little mockingly. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, come on. That wasn't the first time someone's made that joke, I'm sure."

Edward's already light eyes warmed and his expression softened. My heart picked up a few more paces and I had to remind myself to breathe. "Emmett makes the joke often, but Rosalie doesn't find it very funny."

The mention of his sister reminded me of the incident at lunch. "Rosalie didn't seem…as opposed to me at lunch as she did the other day." I tried to word my comment as inconspicuously as possible.

He nodded. "I noticed this as well."

I turned my gaze down onto my notebook, trying to play off the flush that crept up my neck. "Why is that, do you think?"

I could hear the frown in his voice. "I'm not quite sure. I doubt that she's resigned herself to the fact that you know about us. She's _very_ stubborn and very averse to change."

My heart sank. "I wish there were some way to make her not hate me."

"She doesn't hate you," Edward said very gently. "After today, I'm certain of that fact."

I wasn't quite as sure about this, but I didn't continue the subject further. We both turned to our homework; he finished in a matter of minutes while he helped me trudge through my trigonometry problems. I probably would have completed the assignment much faster if I wasn't so distracted by the sweet scent that wafted off his skin.

I finished the last problem right around the time I started to grill the chicken for dinner. Edward helped once more and I watched as he chopped up the vegetables with speed and skill in slight despair. He was too…too _perfect_. I could hardly find anything wrong with him and it disconcerted me.

He noticed I was staring at him. "Bella? What's wrong?"

I struggled to find the right words. "Is there anything you can't do?" I demanded in frustration.

He smirked in a very self-satisfied way and I crossed my arms over my chest in annoyance. "I'm sure there is, but nothing comes to mind."

I grumbled. It wasn't very fair.

Suddenly, Edward's expression melted from self-satisfied to very uncertain. "Bella?" he asked hesitantly, so much so that I immediately dropped my arms to my sides. "Bella, do you mind if I try something?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all."

Then slowly and ever so gently, he took my face with his ice cold hands and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I half expected to flinch violently at his touch, but I didn't. Instead, I stood perfectly still as his face descended lower and lower until his lips touched mine.

**A/N - I hate to leave you guys at such a cliff hanger...but my personal research has proved that cliff hangers tend to produce more reviews. So please review!**

**If you want more information, you can visit my writer's blog. I also put up a sneak peek of next chapter, so go take a look.**


	12. Single File, We Walk the Mile

**Single File We Walk the Mile**

Despite the ice cold of his lips, fire spread across my skin. My heart started to pump faster at the feel of his touch and my bones melted at the gentle way he held me. After a few minutes, my unsteady knees collapsed beneath me. Luckily, Edward was there to catch me from falling to the ground.

"Bella?" he asked worriedly. "Bella, are you okay?"

I was too busy gasping for air to use my voice, so I nodded. When my lungs finally started to work properly, I answered, "I'm just…a little shocked, is all."

"But you're not angry, are you?" His face was anxious and I felt my heart melt. "I'm very sorry if I upset you, I didn't mean to at all—"

"Shh, Edward." I pressed a finger against his lips. "I'm not angry at all." A smile spread across my cheeks and the intense look from before blazed in his eyes. "I'm actually glad that you kissed me."

He paused. "Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure."

His face broke out into that brilliant, uneven grin and my already-unsteady heart went into overdrive. He must have heard it because he chuckled and very tenderly held me to him. "I'm very glad to hear you say that."

Soon we had developed sort of a daily routine: after school Edward would come with me and spend the evening at Charlie's house, helping me trudge through the more incomprehensible trig problems and help me make Charlie's dinner. Then he would leave the moment Charlie walked through the door with the pretense of going home to eat dinner with his own family when in reality he would just climb through my window and wait for me to finish dinner.

We spent the evenings listening to CDs and telling stories. He related fantastic tales from the past and explained the events of the earlier twentieth century with a sense of personal experience that no history teacher could properly emulate. He also talked about his family; he talked about Alice's strange enthusiasm and unknown past, Emmett's intense strength and goofy adventures, Rosalie's slightly obnoxious habits and Jasper's brooding ways. Our shared lunchtimes served to reinforce these images of his family. It should have been difficult, sitting in the midst of this wonderful group of people who all loved each other…and it was. There were days that I couldn't stand the pain of watching how content they all were with each other; it served as a daily reminder of what I had lost and what I would never regain. But in a way, they had all accepted me as a part of their group, as a lost hermit crab in desperate need of a new shell. Emmett and Jasper both went out of their way to make me smile and Alice was always there to share embarrassing stories with. Even Rosalie would send me a soft grin every so often, an action that disconcerted as well as comforted.

So in exchange for his epic tales, I in turn began to talk about my life in Phoenix, before everything changed. It was hard, especially recalling the parts with Alan. But reliving it was therapeutic in ways.

Additionally, Edward seemed genuinely curious about my past. I couldn't imagine why; his stories were so much more interesting than mine. But whenever I told him a story highlighting my mother's erratic behavior or my father's childishness, he would laugh and the pain between my ribs would ease a little bit more.

Soon Friday afternoon rolled around and Edward and I pulled into Charlie's driveway to see the cruiser already parked and my truck's usual spot occupied by a vaguely recognizable dark blue car. My chest tightened when I realized who it was.

"Bella?" Edward immediately recognized my tension. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me tightly to him. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

I sighed. "I know."

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked.

My eyes widened in fear. "No! You have to stay!" There was absolutely no way I could talk to Dr. Levsky without knowing Edward was there, listening to every word. "I can't do it without you, Edward."

He recognized the note of panic in my voice and rubbed comforting circles on my back with his cold hand. "Okay," he reassured. "I won't leave, I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

I looked up and his eyes were blazing with sincerity. A little bit of the tension left my body, but I was still reluctant to get out of the car.

Finally, I knew I could stall no longer. My shaky hand slowly reached for the door handle, but Edward was already there, his arm extended to help me out of my seat. I smiled as steadily as I could and made a tiny step forward.

When I reached the front door, he leaned down to whisper very softly in my ear, "I'll be upstairs in your room. If you need anything, just say you need to go the restroom."

I nodded and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Immediately, I missed the presence of his cold touch. But I couldn't dwell on that; right now, I needed to focus on what I was about to do.

I entered the house and called out loudly, "Charlie! I'm back!"

He stuck his balding head from the entrance to the living room. "Hey, Bella. How was school?"

I shrugged after I closed the door behind me. "It was okay. Are the detectives here?"

The moment I asked that question, Detectives Anderson and Manning walked into the hallway, closely followed by Mrs. Andrews and Dr. Levsky. "Hey, Bella," greeted Detective Manning with a soft smile.

I tried to smile back. "Hi."

"We were just going to have Charlie take us on a tour of the town," Detective Anderson informed me. "He's also helping us in the investigation of last week's accident. We're trying to figure out if it was anyone in town."

"In fact, we should get going right now," Charlie said in a not-so-subtle attempt to get out of the house. I had a hunch that being in close proximity of the shrink and the lawyer was not exactly comforting to him.

"Oh." I nodded.

The detectives and Charlie walked toward me and I moved out of their way to grant them easier access to the front door. "If you need anything, Bella, don't hesitate to call us."

"I will." And with reassuring smiles from all three of them, they walked out the door, leaving me in the lion's den.

I took a deep breath and tried to comfort myself in the fact that Edward was above me, listening intently and ready if I needed him.

With heavy feet, I made my way into the living room where Mrs. Andrews and Dr. Levsky waited for me. They both grinned at me, gentle and soft expressions. No doubt their expectations were high.

"Bella," Mrs. Andrews began the moment my rear touched the armchair, "have you given any thought to your testimony at the trial?"

Deep breath. "I have." I had stayed up multiple nights, thinking about my answer. I had replayed the imagined scenarios over and over in my head.

"What have you decided?"

My fingers were already trembling and I gripped them tightly in my lap. "I've decided that I'll do it."

Mrs. Andrews' smile went from gentle to elated in less than a second. "Okay. We'll get past the grand jury with all the other evidence, so you won't have to testify for that. But you will need to testify during the actual trial."

Ice ran through my veins, but I struggled to hide my shivers. "Okay."

"Bella," Dr. Levsky interjected, "what exactly helped you reach this decision?"

Honestly, it was Edward that had convinced me. He never actually said anything about testifying, but I knew he'd want this. He wanted me to have closure.

"It's the only way I can think to face this," I said quietly. "I've been running from it for a really long time."

"Why do you think that is?"

I was shaking uncontrollably now. "Obviously I didn't want to face it."

"But why is that? Why did you refuse to face it before?"

I looked all around the room. I looked at the couch, at the floor, at my hands, at the ceiling…anywhere but Dr. Levsky. "I don't know. I guess if I talked about it, then it made it real. I didn't want it to be real."

He paused for a very long moment and I looked up at him, wondering why he wasn't talking. I realized he was observing me with those shrewd blue eyes; he was observing my body language and he could see that I was a scared rabbit, ready to bolt.

"Bella, would you be more comfortable if Mrs. Andrews weren't here?"

Of course I would. "Yes," I said quietly, "but I don't want her to leave. She needs to know why I didn't want to testify to begin with."

He nodded knowingly. I saw Mrs. Andrews' brown eyes glaze over and I realized that she was about to cry. I immediately felt more uncomfortable.

"What's the hardest part about all of this?"

I laughed humorlessly. "All of it. Everything. I can't breathe. I can't sleep. I'm always looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to take me again. The kids at school eat lunch with their families and it reminds me of everything I used to have." My knees bounced up and down harder than ever as tears began to well up in the bottoms of my eyelids. "Every time someone tries to befriend me, I can't help but suspect an ulterior motive. I've lost everything."

"Have you been making very many friends at school?"

"I've made a few," I hedged.

"Do you consider them very close?"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Would one of these friends happen to be the young man I met at the hospital?" he asked shrewdly.

I nodded while keeping my gaze on my hands. "That was Edward."

"And does Edward know your circumstances?"

I nodded again.

"You said earlier that you have trouble trusting people so easily. You've been in Forks for barely two weeks and already you trust Edward. Why is that?"

I suddenly wished that the topic of conversation himself were not upstairs, listening to every word. This was bound to be embarrassing. "He saved my life from that van," I told them. "He stayed with me in the hospital even when I told him to get lost. He saw through all the lies I fed him and he wouldn't give up. He never left me alone."

"What finally changed your mind about him?"

Crap. I swallowed hard, knowing that I had to answer this question. I promised to cooperate, after all. "I…"

"You what, Bella?" prompted Dr. Levsky.

"I'm in love with him," I finally admitted. "He was always there when I needed him most. He didn't push me, but he never left and somewhere in the midst of all of it, I fell in love."

I turned my gaze upward to find both Dr. Levsky and Mrs. Andrews beaming widely at me. They looked almost _proud_ of me and I couldn't fathom why.

"That's part of the reason I finally came around," I continued, hoping to get them to stop looking at me like that. "I want to be good enough for him. I want to be whole. I want to forget about this incident and to be able to finally put it behind me."

He kept on smiling, but to a much smaller degree. "You'll never be able to completely forget, Bella," he told me. "As much as you wish it weren't so, this will forever be a part of you. All you can do is not let this ruin your life. You can overcome this, and you're well on your way. Needless to say, Bella, I'm rather impressed; you don't want to get over this just for yourself. You have the motivation of someone you love."

I felt like an embarrassed student, receiving praise from a teacher. No words came to mind, so I just kept silent.

"I think this is a good place to stop for the day," he said. "You've made a great deal more progress than I ever dreamed of. And I think that baby steps should be taken for now. You're learning to open up more and soon you'll be able to talk about the incident a little more easily."

I felt a slight weight lift off of my chest. I wouldn't have to talk about it now.

"I've been looking into the logistics of allowing Dr. Levsky to reside in Forks until the trial," Mrs. Andrews informed me. "That way, he wouldn't have to wait for the detectives to come visit and he can report to me of your progress while I'm in Phoenix. He'll also be within much easier reach if you need him."

Guilt racked my body. Dr. Levsky was willing to temporarily move to Forks just to help me? "You really don't have to do that," I said uncomfortably. "What about your other patients? What if they need you?"

"As of now, I don't have any other patients. I work for the FBI and right now the Phoenix SVU needs me on this case."

I tugged on my sleeves; it was a nervous habit. "You sure it won't be a problem?"

He smiled indulgingly at me, much like a grandfather would to a favorite grandchild. "Not at all."

I finally nodded. "Okay. If you're sure."

Ten minutes later, the detectives and Charlie came back. My foster father invited them to stay for dinner, but they insisted that they had to get back to Phoenix. We saw them off from the front porch and when they had disappeared into the cloudy horizon, we went back into the house for the usual weeknight routine.

I was in the middle of chopping some tomatoes when a sharp knock sounded against the front door. When I opened it, I saw an absolutely jubilant Edward standing on the front step. His huge smile made him all the more beautiful; so much so that I could hardly breathe around my pounding heart.

"Hello," he said with a radiant grin.

"Hi," I greeted much less impressively.

"Bella?" called Charlie from the living room. "Who is it?"

"It's Edward," I called back.

"Oh." Shuffling sounds drifted from the living room and a few seconds later, Charlie was sticking his head out of the entrance. "Hey, Edward. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I would like that very much," he replied politely, his burning amber gaze never leaving my face. My skin flushed under the scrutiny, but I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"Well why don't you help me make it, then?" I asked. And before Charlie could say anything else, I walked back to the kitchen and I felt rather than heard Edward follow.

When I was sure we were alone, I turned to the beautiful vampire with a curious look on my face. "Why are you so happy?" I demanded. Don't get me wrong, I liked that Edward was happy, but the abruptness of this joy unnerved me.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he circled my wrists with his cold fingers and leaned forward to plant a kiss on my lips. It was the second kiss he had ever given me and my reaction was exactly the same; his cold skin and the lovely, sweet scent wafting from him pulled a haze over my senses and soon I forgot to breathe. All I could think was to keep his lips on mine at all costs.

When he pulled away, his eyes were ablaze with such a fierce emotion that I felt as if the ground had been swept up from underneath me. "I love you, Bella," he said passionately.

After a few stunned moments, I brought my hand to his cold face and stroked his cheekbone with my thumb. "I love you too, Edward."

It was such an unbelievably sweet moment. If it were possible, I would wish for time to stop right then and there, so I could spend the rest of my life looking into Edward's love-filled, golden gaze and float in his protective embrace.

For the first time in three months (perhaps even my whole life), I felt content.

Eventually we broke apart, but we found every excuse to stand as close as possible to one another. Even at dinner, Edward placed his chair as close to mine as the table allowed. Charlie must have noticed, but he didn't mind; in fact, he looked very pleased about the arrangement.

When we all finished "eating" (insert inside joke laughter here), Edward followed me upstairs and we sat on my floor, reading the liner notes of the album he had brought with him.

At one point, I looked up and found him staring at me with that same soft look in his eye. My heart melted, but I struggled to retain control of my voice. "You never did answer my question," I said in what was meant to be a teasing voice, but just turned into a breathless whisper instead. "Why are you so suddenly happy?"

His grin widened. "I heard you tell that psychiatrist that you love me. How could I not be happy after that?"

A blush rose to my cheeks and Edward chuckled. "I feel kind of embarrassed," I admitted. "Some of that stuff I didn't really mean for you to hear."

He reached over and took my hand in his. "But I'm glad I heard it," he insisted. "I don't think I've ever been so happy."

I shared his joy to an extent, but not fully. There was still a part of me that prevented me from being truly happy. This part had diminished over the course of two short weeks, but it was still considerably poisonous and it was the only thing that stood between me and true bliss with Edward.

I had let this hole inside me control me and keep me from happiness, and it was time I rid myself of it. It was time to let go of this fear and move on.

"What are you thinking?" he asked when I hadn't spoken in a while.

I looked up straight into his eyes. "I was thinking that it's time I moved on. I can't let this fear control my life forever. Mom and Dad would have wanted me to move on."

He moved closer and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Yes. They would have."

"I have to start now," I said with resolve in my voice. "The next time I see Dr. Levsky, I won't be so nervous. I want to show him more progress. And I have to start getting ready for the trial."

"How will you do that?"

A lump formed in my throat, but I spoke around it. "I think it's time I actually started going to sleep. For the past three months now, I've been refusing to go to sleep because of the nightmares. But it's unhealthy. I can't keep doing it."

He squeezed me gently to him. "Good. I'm glad."

I glanced at the bed and fear lurched in my stomach, hard and cold.

Edward noticed my suddenly stiff posture and followed my gaze. He must have realized what I was thinking because he said, "You don't have to start off sleeping in the bed," he said gently. "You can sleep in the rocking chair, and when you feel up to it, you can move onto the bed. It's best if you take baby steps."

I nodded, a little relieved. "Okay." But slowly, the implications of his words started to sink into my brain. "Wait…" I trailed off as I frowned into his eyes. "How did you know?"

It was his turn to frown. "Know what?"

"That I…don't like beds."

"Well, Carlisle told me about that night at the hospital," he said, with a slight sadness in his eyes. "And I've been watching you for a long time. You never go anywhere near your bed and you spend your nights curled up in the rocking chair, staring out the window and you end up falling asleep like that."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up my forehead. "You…you've been watching me?"

He nodded, as if there was nothing wrong with that.

My sudden determination to rid myself of my fear gave way to the sudden mix of emotions; I felt embarrassed, flattered, outraged and shy all at once. As I tried to sort through my feelings, I managed to stutter one word: "W-why?"

Edward's cold thumb started brushing patterns across my knuckles. "Because I didn't want you to be alone. You didn't deserve to be alone."

Slowly, realization began to dawn. "Wait…so was that…was that really you? When I was about to…"

He nodded. "Yes. That was me."

My throat swelled with emotion. Edward saved me from myself. Without thinking, I reached over and threw my arms around his shoulders and buried my face and suddenly teary eyes into his sweater. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you so much."

He held me tightly around the waist and whispered into my hair, "I love you, Bella. I love you so much."

Several hours later, I had brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas. After very little persuasion, I convinced Edward to stay with me for the night. I didn't want to admit that I wouldn't be able to do this without his influence, but he seemed to understand.

When I was finished getting ready for bed, I walked back to my room to see him sitting in the rocking chair, waiting for me. I smiled and wrapped myself with the comforter before I curled up in his lap. Then he wrapped his arms around me and I nestled my head in the cradle of his neck and shoulder. "Go to sleep, love," he murmured quietly. "Dream happily."

My eyes drooped and my mind hazed as he rocked back and forth, humming a quiet lullaby in my ear.

_I found myself in darkness once again. But this time, it felt different._

_"Bella," Alan greeted me. His smile was wide and unassuming, but I knew differently. Underneath that mask of calm was a monster, waiting to be unleashed. "Bella, it's been so long."_

_I waited for my muscles to freeze, but they did not. Instead my hands clenched into fists and I waited for him to approach me._

_"Have you finally come back to me?" he asked. "Have you finally realized that you love me as well?"_

_I didn't answer him. Despite my anger, a considerable amount of fear still remained. I couldn't answer him with a still tongue, so I kept my mouth shut._

_My fists quivered as he came closer. Soon he was standing behind me, much too close for comfort. His breath made the tendrils around my face sway and a deep pit of discomfort widened in my stomach. But despite all of this, I stood my ground. I wasn't going to run away from this._

_"You have," he said with a sense of triumph. "You've given up."_

_With rough fingers, he grabbed my wrists. I tried to pull them out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let go. He clamped down on them hard and I felt my breath hitch. It reminded me of the handcuffs and I felt the terror freeze my muscles._

_"Let go of me," I whimpered. I was ashamed to hear the weakness in my own voice._

_"Never again, Bella," he said in a deceivingly tender tone. "I'll never let you go again."_

_"I believe the lady asked you to unhand her," a furiously musical voice whispered. My heart suddenly lifted and warmth flew throughout my body once more._

_Alan's anger was nearly tangible. "You have no claim to her! She is_ mine_!"_

_I took advantage of his surprise and ripped my hands away. "I was never yours," I spat, "and I will never_ be _yours!"_

_The monster hissed and grabbed my arm. "No! You_ are _mine! You cannot belong to anyone else! I made you mine!"_

_"You cannot take me by force!" I screamed. "I refuse!"_

_He closed the distance between us and shook me by the shoulders. "I already have! I have made you mine and now no one else could ever want you!"_

_But Edward hadn't given up. A cold arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me away from Alan's grip. "She does not want you and she has already said that she does not belong to you."_

_And suddenly, Alan was gone. All that was left was Edward's warm smile._

**A/N - Ah, the long awaited fluff!**

**There have been a couple of FAQs, and I answered them on my blog. I've also put a sneak peek for the next chapter (which happens to be my favorite) up there, so check it out when you get the chance.**

**As always, reviews are most greatly appreciated! They are the food to my soul.**


	13. Who's Wandering Back Home

**Who's Wandering Back Home**

"You're _sure_ you'll be fine?"

I chuckled. "For the millionth time, Edward, I will be fine. Go find yourself some mountain lions and leave the girly stuff to us."

He sighed. "Well then at least allow Alice to pay for the dress."

The corners of my lips immediately pulled downward in a frown. "No."

"Bella, please don't be difficult."

"I'm not. I'm being reasonable."

"Don't worry, Edward," Alice chirped from behind me. "I won't let her pay for the dress."

I pursed my lips in annoyance, but I didn't say anything. It was going to be very difficult to outsmart Alice, but it didn't mean I was going to try. I couldn't let her pay for this dress; it was bad enough that I was going to this stupid dance in the first place.

"Bella, I tricked you into going into this dance," he said as if reading my mind, even though I knew perfectly well that he couldn't. "At least let me make it up to you by buying the dress."

He had a good argument, but I wasn't going to cave. I refused to be tricked again.

"Go," I urged, trying uselessly to push against his granite muscles.

He sighed and pressed his lips against my forehead. The simple touch sent shivers all over my skin and I inwardly sighed. Would I ever get used to this? "Make sure you stay with Rosalie and Alice the entire time, okay? Even when you need to go to the restroom."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled at the same time. "I will. I promise."

Then he bent down and kissed my lips. And quicker than I could breathe, he was out the door.

When my heart resumed its normal pace I started up the staircase to look for Alice, who managed to disappear during our goodbye. She wasn't in her room so I crossed the hall to Rosalie and Emmett's room.

I knocked on the door and a soft voice called, "Come in," from the other side. When I opened the door, I saw both the Cullen sisters sitting on a humongous bed with black sheets.

"Bella," Alice greeted with a wide smile.

"Hey," I said, a little uncomfortably. "So, are we going?"

"In a minute," Rosalie answered. "I actually wanted to talk to you, and I couldn't really do it with the boys around."

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. After the first encounter with Rosalie, she never returned to her hostility, not even once; in fact, she had gone out of her way to make me feel at ease. But despite all of this, I couldn't bring myself to let myself feel comfortable around her.

"Sure," I murmured as I brought a chair closer to the bed.

"I think I'm going to go out and hunt for a little while," Alice declared. She gracefully unfolded her form and stepped out of the room. "I'll be back soon." And with a reassuring smile, she left the room.

Panic bubbled in my stomach. I was alone in a room with Rosalie. Now, logically, I knew that she wasn't going to do anything to me. But my uncomfortable gut feeling was clouding my logical side.

"Bella," she began. I turned to look at the beautiful vampire sitting in front of me and I found myself once again being mesmerized by her loveliness. I had to shake my head to properly focus. "Has Edward ever told you anything about me?"

I shrugged. "A little. He talks about how you're a good mechanic and how you're really stubborn."

She allowed herself a small smile, but it quickly dissolved. "Did he tell you about how I became a vampire?"

I shook my head, suddenly interested in spite of myself. "No, he didn't."

Rosalie nodded and stared down at the comforter. I waited patiently for a few moments and she began her tale.

"I was born in Rochester, New York in 1915 to a middleclass family. My father was a banker and my mother was a housewife…like all wives back then. And we were very proud. Father took pride in the fact that he had a stable job during such times of economic hardship. He thought that if other people worked as hard as he did, they would be better off. I never believed any differently and as a result, I lived a life of blissful ignorance." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I was a sheltered child.

"But I was happy. As I grew older, I gained a reputation based on my beauty. Everywhere I went, heads turned and men followed. I was an object of desire and I thrived on the attention. My parents noticed and realized that this was their ticket. They wanted more than what they were given, you see. They wanted greater riches than they already had. So when Royce King, the son of the wealthiest family in Rochester, asked for my hand in marriage, they were completely thrilled."

I noticed the change in her voice. There was an edge in her tone and I felt dread for what was to come. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, but I knew something was going to happen.

"I can't say that I really loved Royce…we never spent enough time together to fall in love. It was a marriage based solely on image, really. He was handsome and he needed and equally beautiful wife clutching his arm. But I was still pleased that he proposed to me. We were a lovely couple and we would make a lovely family. For that was what I wanted most, at that time…I wanted a child of my very own." She looked down at her hands. "In fact, I still do."

Something about her tone seeped into my heart. Without consciously thinking about it, I reached over and squeezed her hands with mine. She probably didn't feel the pressure, but she looked up and smiled warmly at me anyway.

Then she sighed. "I probably should have taken the time to get to know my fiancé. It might have prevented what happened later."

I held my breath. The warmth left her golden irises and was replaced by a cold, faraway look. They darkened, but thankfully, they didn't revert to the complete pitch black.

"I was visiting my friend a week before the wedding. By the time I decided to go home, it was already dark. I was only a few streets away from my house when I heard them. A familiar but slurred voice called my name. I turned around and saw my future husband surrounded by a group of people I had never seen before. The horrid stench of alcohol wafted off their clothing and I was disgusted.

"Royce was completely drunk. He held me by the shoulders and showed me off to all his equally drunk friends. They laughed, leering at my beauty with their watery eyes." Her fists clenched underneath my hands, but I didn't move them.

"He ripped my coat off, then my hat. The pins pulled at my hair and I screamed; I think that made them excited. They tore at my clothes even faster."

My muscles froze at her words.

"There were five of them and only one of me. I couldn't put up much of a fight. I tried, believe me…but they were too strong. They grabbed every part of me they could reach: my hair, my arms, my legs. I thought my throat was on fire, I was screaming so loudly. And it was so cold."

I caught the very faint tremble in her voice. It was so small that I doubted anyone would be able to hear it, but I heard it easily.

"They each took turns. But Royce was last and he took his time. He tortured me much worse than any of the others: he pulled my hair, he slapped my face, and he pounded against me much harder than the rest of his friends did. I suppose that since I was his fiancée he felt he was entitled to the most from me. I don't know. But it was more painful with him than anyone else, and not only in a physical sense. I felt completely betrayed, by his false manners and by my dreams. I thought he was a better man than to stoop to all of this. But I was taken in by his charm, his manners, his good looks and his money. My parents raised me to believe that people with money were well-bred and polite—the best of the best. How could they be so wrong?"

The subtle pain in her voice was unbearable. Without thinking, I moved from my chair to sit on the bed next to her and wrap my arms around her shoulders.

"When they were finished, they left me there for dead. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, but I heard their cold words. John was joking that Royce was going to have to find a new bride.

"Carlisle found me a half hour later. He smelled the blood, took me to his home and changed me. The rest is history."

When she finished, I sat completely still, staring at her supernatural beauty with a completely new set of eyes. I had always known that beauty could double as a curse…I just hadn't known to what extent.

After what seemed like hours of silence, I finally found my voice. "How did you deal with…with afterwards?"

She sighed. "I thought about it a lot. I was almost obsessed. You see, Bella, when you turn into a vampire, you gain a perfect memory but your human memories will fade very quickly unless you hold onto them. I held onto this human memory harder than any other. It's why I can remember it so clearly. I spent weeks on end just sitting in my room and thinking about what happened to me."

Therein lay the difference between Rosalie and me: she wanted to remember. I didn't.

But she went on. "Mainly I was angry. I hated that something so base, so vile could happen to me. I hated that I wasn't strong enough to fight them off. And of course, I hated him and all his disgusting friends for what they did. I was so angry that I sought revenge. I killed them all before some poor, faceless girl would have to go through what I experienced."

I shivered. I had seen her rage first hand, and it was not a pleasant sight.

"But I also felt so betrayed. I didn't really talk to my new family, not like I do now. Edward always knew how I felt because of that stupid power of his and Carlisle had a good guess, but I didn't tell them about it until almost a year later. I had spent an entire year to myself, trapped in my own head. There was no outlet and there was no one to stop me from replaying that night over and over again in my mind. It wasn't until Esme shared her own tragic tale that I began to really open up."

I was startled. "Was Esme…?" I trailed off in fear. I couldn't possibly imagine something so despicable happening to someone so sweet.

"No," she said quickly. "She was put through her own round of abuse, but not like me. Not like you."

I stilled at her words. She knew of my circumstances; Edward told his family so they could keep a better eye on me. But as far as I knew, none of the Cullens knew for certain the extent of my damage. I suspected Carlisle had a few guesses and Edward would have seen that, but I knew they would keep quiet about their suspicions. They would wait until I was comfortable.

I felt my face shut down when I turned back to Rosalie. "How did you…?"

She smiled sadly. "I recognized the same look when I met you. When Edward brought you to the house for the first time, I saw your face. There was so much pain in your eyes that I almost drowned in it. I felt like I had traveled in time and stared at my own emptiness from decades and decades ago."

My stomach clenched at her words. I remembered as well.

"I knew just by looking at you. You went through something similar to what I experienced. And just like me, you've been holding it in."

I couldn't help it. Tears started streaming down my face long before I realized that they had even gathered in the first place.

"He killed my parents, you know," I whispered. Then I laughed, but it was hardly funny. "Of course you know. Edward told you."

Rosalie didn't say anything. She just reached toward me and held me close in her cold arms.

I cried into her designer shirt. "He kept saying, 'I love you. I love you, Bella.' But he couldn't love me! If he loved me, he never would have…" I couldn't complete my sentence. Despite all I had gone through, I couldn't admit fully to what he had done.

"And then, I thought, it must have been my fault after all. I didn't fight as hard as I could have." My fingers clenched tightly over her collar. "I wanted to keep my parents away. If he was preoccupied with me, then he'd leave them alone. But then it just kept getting _worse_."

Her arms tightened around me, but she didn't say anything.

"I thought it must have been some kind of punishment. Like I deserved it."

She finally broke her silence. With a firm touch, she pulled me away so she could look me straight in the eye. "No one deserves it," she said sternly. "Especially you. You never deserved any of this."

The careful dam I had built to hold all of my anger suddenly broke. "Then _why_?" I screamed. "If I didn't deserve it, why did it fucking happen in the first place? Why do people like Alan Vickers and Royce King even exist?"

She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me gently. "I don't know. I don't know why horrible things happen to good people. But all we can do after it's finished is move on and make sure it never happens again."

"But I'm not _like_ you, Rosalie! You're so much stronger than I am, and I'm not talking physically. You weren't afraid to think about what happened, and you were attacked by _five _men. You didn't shy away from your thoughts, and I'm afraid to even _think_ about it. I don't have that kind of strength."

She frowned. "Bella, what are you talking about? Alan Vickers killed your parents, raped you, and got off scotch free! You had to move to a completely different state to make sure he wouldn't kill you, but he found out where you are anyways. The fact that you're even breathing astounds me. You have so much more strength than I could ever hope to have."

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to help me face this and finally accept it. There was still a huge part of me that was waiting for me to wake up from this terrible nightmare.

"You're stronger than you think," Rosalie whispered after a long moment of silence.

I didn't say anything in return; I couldn't bring it in myself to tell her that she was wrong. So I just buried my face in her shirt and she held my quietly sobbing form, rubbing comforting circles on my back with her cold hands.

An hour later, my chest had stopped shaking. I was finally composed enough to speak.

"You're not going to tell Edward, are you?" I whispered.

"No," she said very firmly. "It's not my story to tell. Besides, Bella, I don't think I'd ever be able to do it justice."

I sighed and buried my face in my hands. "How did it ever come to this, Rosalie? How did things end up like this? And why do these things happen to us? We were happy and content before all of this happened. It's almost like we were _too_ happy. It was like some huge, cosmic form of justice. There had to be equal amounts of happiness and misery."

"No," she said again only with a harsher tone. I looked up and her luscious lips were pressed in a very thin line. "No one ever deserves that kind of misery. Not you, not I. We don't deserve what happened to us and the bastard that left you like this will get his."

We were quiet for a long time. I just sat there, on Rosalie's bed as she rubbed comforting circles on my back. Her words echoed through my mind and I dwelled on them longer than necessary. But somehow, knowing that she had gone through what I had, knowing that she understood how I felt made me a little stronger, a little more reassured. This beautiful, strong creature was the light at the end of the tunnel. If I survived this, if I finally reached the coveted closure, I would be as strong as Rosalie.

"Thank you," I murmured after the extended silence. "I know how hard it must have been to tell me that."

The corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile. "It gets easier, Bella. I promise."

I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes. "Is this why you started being nice to me? Why you stopped arguing with Edward after that first time?"

She nodded. "After I saw your eyes, I knew you would be better off here with us than alone and trying to fight away your memories. The moment I saw you as my kindred spirit, I could never push you away. I've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but Edward was trying to keep you away from me."

I frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"He was afraid that I would hurt you even more." She rolled her eyes. "He should have known better than that."

At that moment, tiny Alice Cullen bounded into the room with a wide smile on her face and an almost flushed complexion. "So are we ready to go?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. "Yes, I'm ready."

I followed the two Cullen sisters out to the garage and we piled into Rosalie's flashy red convertible. The top was down today because Alice didn't predict any rain.

Having heard Rosalie's story made me morbidly curious. "Alice?" I asked a little hesitantly. I wasn't exactly sure how to ask such a question and I also didn't know if it was too personal a question to ask.

But her small lips quirked up in a smile and I knew that she already saw what I was going to ask. "Yes, Bella?" she prompted. I took it as a sign that she wasn't offended.

"How did you become a vampire?"

I didn't see any pain on her face, but an expression of intense longing dominated her features. "I don't know," she replied. "All I know is life after my transformation. When I woke up, I saw my future family and Jasper in a vision." She smiled at me, probably to show that she didn't have any hard feelings. "If I didn't have this ability, who knows what would have happened to me."

I frowned. "Do you ever wish that you knew what happened?"

She shrugged. "Of course I'm curious, but I don't know how I would feel after I found out." She smiled sadly. "You heard Rosalie's story. Esme's tale is equally tragic. It's a terrible pattern with female vampires and none of the endings I've heard are pleasant."

But I still couldn't wrap my head around the concept. "So you don't have an idea? None at all?"

"Nope. But I don't really worry about it. I'm happy now; I have a wonderful family and a husband whom I love more than life itself. Does the past matter so much as long as I'm content?"

I suppose it didn't. And in a sense, I envied Alice. There was no doubt in my mind that her past was probably as tragic as her sister's. It didn't seem possible for a vampire to have a happy human existence; if they had, they never would have become a part of the supernatural. But in Alice's case, she just skipped all the sadness right to the contentment. She didn't have to relive her pain, like Rosalie and I did.

I spent the rest of the ride to Olympia in quiet contemplation. I felt closer to both of Edward's sisters than I ever had before. Of course, Alice was an easy person to feel close to, but I always felt like Rosalie was a completely separate entity, too aloof and too cold to approach. But now that I knew her story, a story so similar to my own, she and I had become something close to sisters in our own right. We shared a secret, a desperate pain that still haunted us.

When we made it into downtown Olympia, we parked in a parking garage not far from the center of town. I stepped out of the car and drew closer to Rosalie's side than I would have before our conversation.

"Rosalie?" I asked hesitantly. "How…how long did it take before it got easier?"

She sighed. "It didn't get easier until after I started talking about it. For me, it was a couple of years."

The corners of my lips pulled down in a frown. I didn't have a couple of years—I wasn't even sure I had a couple of months. The trial was bound to come soon.

She must have realized what I was thinking because she rested her cold hand on my shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Everyone's different, Bella. With your strength, I'm sure that you'll be able to face it much sooner than I was."

But I didn't have any strength.

"Come on!" Alice shouted excitedly when she spotted a store across the street flaunting fashionably-clad mannequins in the window. "We'll start there!"

Rosalie and I followed at a much slower pace. "Should I be scared?" I whispered to her out of the corner of my mouth. It was useless to whisper with Alice around because I knew she'd be able to hear it anyway, but it didn't stop me from trying.

The blonde Cullen sister nodded. "Yes."

Scared was a little bit of an understatement; shopping with Alice Cullen was like shopping with a tornado. The moment we crossed the threshold of the store, she tore through racks with the most conspicuous clothing and tossed the hangers into my bewildered arms, not bothering to ask me my size. After picking at least sixteen different dresses, she pushed me to the back and into the nearest dressing room.

The second the door closed, I sighed and pulled the first dress off the hanger. It was pretty, I suppose, but much too fashion forward for a high school dance, much less a _Forks_ High School dance. I turned the tag over and felt my eyeballs bulge out of their sockets at the price.

"Bella?" called Alice impatiently through the dressing room door. "What's taking so long?"

"Alice, this dress costs five hundred dollars!"

"So?"

"I can't try this on!"

"Yes you can," she insisted. "I probably won't even buy any of the stuff you have with you right now."

I tried to glare at her through the thin wood. "Then why are you making me try them on?" I demanded.

Her muffled sigh permeated the door, like an exhausted teacher trying to explain a simple concept to an even simpler student. "I'm trying to find your aesthetic."

_"What?"_

"Quit stalling!" she cried. "Try them on before I go in there and force them over your head!"

There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that she would, so I hastily threw the dress on.

After four more stores, Alice declared my aesthetic was "classical romantic." I had no idea what in the world she meant by this, but the look on her face told me that challenging her verdict would not be wise. When she had her back turned though, I shot a glance at Rosalie who only smiled apologetically in return.

However, before we could begin the _real_ dress shopping, my stomach started grumbling at an embarrassing volume.

"Why didn't you tell us you were hungry?" Alice scolded.

"You wouldn't have believed me," I pointed out. "You probably would have accused me of trying to stall the dress hunt."

Rosalie chuckled. Alice scowled.

We walked to the closest Burger King and I placed a large order, hoping to draw the shopping break out a little longer. Unfortunately, it was brought to me practically the second after I paid. It must have been some kind of conspiracy or really good planning on Alice's part; in fact, she looked a little smug.

The moment I ate the last fry, the tray disappeared and the smallest Cullen sister was on her feet. "Come on, let's go!" she cried, tugging gently on my wrist.

The actual dress shopping wasn't nearly as bad as the aesthetic-finding. We found a dress in the second store after lunch. It was a deep, rich blue, made of silk. It had a sweetheart neckline with thin silk straps and an empire waist lined with tiny crystals. The skirt was draped elegantly from the waistline and stopped mid-calf, with several layers of lighter blue and differing in lengths floating around my legs. I actually didn't think the dress looked very good on me, but Alice swore up and down that this was the one for me. Even Rosalie smiled when she saw me in it.

When we got back to their house, Alice sped away to put the dress in her closet. I didn't argue; having the dress in my closet would only make me more nervous about the dance.

The moment I stepped out of the car, Edward was already at my side. "So you survived after all," he said by way of greeting.

I grimaced. "Barely."

He chuckled and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "Surely it wasn't that bad."

My eyebrows set over my eyes in a heavy line. "Have you ever gone shopping with your sister?"

"I make it a point not to."

"Then you wouldn't know."

He laughed again, but didn't answer. Instead he wrapped my small frame with his cold arms. I leaned against his strong shoulder and breathed in his delicious scent, glad to be in his presence once more.

**A/N - Woo hoo! Favorite chapter! If you want to know why, you'll have to read the blog (listed as my website on my profile). And as always, I put a sneak peek of the next chapter.**

**Please, please, PLEASE review! I've recently acquired a MacBook and the funny thing about these things is that if I don't get enough reviews, it simply won't let me update. Stupid Apple...but it can't be helped.**


	14. Was it you?

**Was it You?**

Over the next week, I found that my days were beginning to hold equal parts of pain and joy. The joy was mostly due to Edward's presence; the moment I opened the door and saw him waiting for me an intense happiness rose within me, completely overshadowing the agony that had played such a prevalent role in my life up until now.

Edward's family was also a contributing factor to my increasing contentment. Despite Emmett's intimidating appearance, he was really just an overgrown teddy bear; he always found a way to make me chuckle no matter what the situation and often at Edward's expense. I had a feeling that Edward would have been a lot more sensitive about his brother's jokes if they hadn't made me laugh. With Alice, there was too much infectious energy radiating from her tiny body to be sad or lethargic. She had the ability to make me grin with a single word. And of course, it was impossible to feel upset at all around Jasper; he was always a soothing presence. Rosalie's friendship was a comfort as well, now that I knew her better. She was always there to give me an encouraging smile whenever I needed it.

The siblings weren't the only ones that comforted. Whenever I visited the Cullen home, Carlisle would give me a free physical and Esme loved any excuse she had to fuss over my general health.

Of course, I never could completely escape the unhappiness; it was something that I couldn't change and its intensity had not decreased by any means. I felt it the most at night, before I curled up in Edward's lap and fell asleep. My dreams were still nightmares more often than not, but at least I didn't scream myself awake anymore.

And Alan Vickers' voice still resounded through my mind, an inescapable presence. Every time Edward murmured in my ear that he loved me, Alan echoed the same sentiment with that terrifying, throaty whisper.

Dr. Levsky managed to find an apartment close to Forks soon after his last visit. I went to his place for a session the Friday night before the dance. Edward was there too, though the good doctor had no idea.

"So, Bella," he began as he settled into the ottoman next to the couch, "do you have any weekend plans?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, tugging on the ends of my sleeves. I still felt uncomfortable talking to him. "I'm going to a school dance tomorrow with some friends."

He smiled. "That's good. Are you excited?"

I shrugged. "Kind of?" My answer sounded more like a question than a statement of fact.

Dr. Levsky laughed, totally oblivious to different set of musical chuckles coming from the closet in the hallway. "It sounds like you're not exactly sure."

"I'm not," I admitted sheepishly. "I'm excited because I'm going with Edward, but I'm not very graceful."

"Oh, so you're worried about the dancing part."

My mouth pulled down in a frown. "How did you know?"

He laughed again. "I may be old, Bella, but I remember my adolescence rather well for my age."

I smiled a little. "And I'm sort of worried about my dress. I went shopping with Alice, Edward's sister, because she insisted on it and I found this dress that I'm not sure looks very good on me."

"Are you very close with Alice?"

I nodded. "I'm actually pretty close to his family. Dr. Cullen was my doctor while I was in the hospital here and Esme, his wife, always insists on feeding me whenever I go over to his house. And he's got four siblings that go to school with me. They're all very kind."

"I assume they know about your circumstances as well."

I felt a little sheepish. My secret wasn't so secret anymore. "Yeah, but they won't tell anyone. They've been looking out for me, too."

"Don't look so guilty, Bella," he said with a smile. "It's a good thing that you're reaching out to people. But I have to ask; what changed your mind about them? I was under the impression that you weren't looking for friends."

I shrugged. "I wasn't, but they were like Edward was; they didn't give up on me. They all took me under their wings. Especially Rosalie."

"How so?"

I looked down at the coffee table and stared at the grains in the wood. I couldn't look Dr. Levsky in the eye when I told him this part. "I never told her—in fact, I never told anyone—but she knew anyway. She knew what really happened to me because she went through the same thing."

There was a short silence as he absorbed my words. "You mean she was raped too?"

I flinched at the word. "Yeah," I finally answered. "She was."

"She told you about it? How did that change your perspective?"

I thought carefully about my words before answering his question. "Well, it made it easier to talk to her and be around her. At first I thought she hated me, but it turned out she didn't. And in a way, it made it easier to talk about what happened in general."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know…I guess it's because it felt better to know that there's someone who's gone through it and now she's stronger. Rosalie's one of the strongest people I've ever met. It sort of gives me hope."

He thought a little bit before he asked his next question. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about it?"

My muscles stiffened at his words. I knew that I would eventually have to do this—I had agreed to testify, after all—but it still didn't change the fact that I wanted to jump up and run away at the thought.

"We'll start slowly," Dr. Levsky said gently. "What happened after Alan found you and your mother?"

My hand was wrapped around my arm and my thumb lightly traced the faint scar on my forearm. "My mother tried to fight him off."

"Then what happened?"

"She…she wasn't…"

All of the images came rushing back. I managed to escape them for three months and now they had caught up to me. They ripped at me with a vengeance. "She wasn't dressed."

Dr. Levsky didn't say anything for a moment. "Do you think she was raped, too?"

I hadn't realized that tears had fallen until I felt something wet fall on my hand. "Yeah," I said hoarsely. "When she was fighting him off, she kept shouting, 'Not my daughter, you bastard!' And she had this wild look in her eye." I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat. "If she were capable of it, she might have killed him."

"What happened after that?"

My gaze wandered all over the bare room. One moment I was looking at the table, the next I was looking at the ottoman. My knees wouldn't stop bouncing and I didn't have the energy to stop them. "I launched myself at him and told her to run."

"What were you thinking at that moment?"

I shook my head hard, as if trying to dislodge the images that continued to bombard me. "My mother was already covered in bruises and Alan was so much stronger than she was. If it were your mother, what would you have thought?"

More silence. I hated the silence; I wanted him to say something, anything. I wanted him to distract me from the roaring memories in my head.

"What do you think about that now?"

I jerkily wiped away the moisture on my cheek and turned to face the wall. "That I failed. I failed her."

"Why?"

It wasn't said as an accusation, but it felt like a finger jabbing me in the stomach. It felt like a realization of guilt.

"Because it didn't work. Because she died anyway. Because that…that bastard ended up getting what he wanted after all."

"No he didn't, Bella," he said gently.

"Yes he did," I whispered through clenched teeth. "He did. He got what he wanted; he ruined me. That was what he wanted all along. And I just fell into his plan. I was such an idiot. I did exactly what he knew I would do." My burning fists shook in my lap. I wanted to get up and throw them into something. I wanted to feel something break in my hands.

Another pregnant silence permeated the atmosphere. "Are you angry at him or yourself?"

I couldn't help it…the irony in that simple question was too much. A laugh escaped my lips, and then another. My whole body was shaking with hysterical giggles and I couldn't stop. Part of me was frightened—the situation was hardly funny—but there was no stopping it. The tears started to flow faster, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was laughing so hard or because of the overwhelming emotions.

Dr. Levsky waited for me to finish. The uncontrollable, slaphappy laughter gave way to huge, racking sobs that tore through my chest. My lungs were trying desperately to breathe around the pain, but they couldn't. "I'm angry at the both of us."

Dr. Levsky's eyes were so indescribably sad at that moment. It felt like I was looking at my own reflection. "Bella…you don't have to hold yourself accountable for this."

"Yes I do," I wept. "I wasn't strong enough to save my mother, so now I have to face the consequences. This is all my fault."

"No, Bella," he said fervently. "You know that's not true."

So presumptuous. "Do I?"

He set aside the notebook he had in his lap and leaned forward to stare me in the eyes. "Bella, you said that you didn't have the strength to save your mother. Let's assume that's true. Is that why you're trying to shoulder your pain on your own? Because you're trying to make up for your lack of strength?"

His words were like a scalpel straight in my chest. It relentlessly twisted and twisted, mangling my lungs, my heart, and ripping that hole wide open in the process.

But he kept going. "You're punishing yourself because you weren't strong enough. And you think the only way to build up emotional strength is to bear this terrible burden all on your own."

I shook my head, but it was really no use. He was right, and the gnawing, aching feeling inside of me was proof. It wouldn't hurt this much if it wasn't true.

"You don't have to do this. You _shouldn't_ have to do this."

It was no use. "I'm trying," I insisted hoarsely, trying to still my trembling fingers. "But I can't…I'm just…no matter what I do, I'm not strong enough. I wasn't strong enough to save my mother and I'm not strong enough to face this."

"What do you mean by that? How are you not strong enough to face this?"

"I have to rely on Edward. I have to rely on you. I can't just make these stupid memories go away on my own. I can't fight him off and each time I try he gets stronger and stronger." My tears were flowing so fast and the sobs in my chest were ripping themselves out of my chest that my words were hardly understandable.

But Dr. Levsky seemed to understand me anyway. "So you think that by relying on others, you're showing weakness? Weakness isn't such a terrible thing. People like Edward and his family and Charlie and the detectives all want to help you. Just let them."

"I can't do this to them! I can't…I _won't_ let others suffer like this! No one should have to go through this! No one!"

"But you're the only exception?"

That one sentence stopped me short and I realized with frustration that I didn't have anything to say in reply.

"Look, Bella," he began in a very paternal tone, "I've seen and heard a lot of things. I've talked to a lot of women who went through the same thing you did. But you are the only one I have ever met that doesn't want to talk about the trauma not just because of reliving the pain, but also because of the pain it would cause others. The fact that you still have such compassion after what has happened to you shows that you have so much strength.

"I realize that you no longer feel human, that you've lost everything that makes you who you are. But you _haven't_. You've stubbornly held onto your compassion for others, to save them from what you're going through. You're still you, can't you see? You haven't fallen off the edge of humanity yet."

Something peculiar happened. As his words sunk into my brain the cracks in my chest started to mend. My breathing slowly eased and the involuntary shaking began to subside.

A memory from before the incident floated to the surface of my mind. I was sixteen years old, and I came home from a quick trip to the ER (one of many in my adolescence) that I hadn't told my family about until they saw the stitches on my leg. Naturally, my mother was frightened out of her wits and she scolded me for hours. But later that night, she started talking to Dad about how worried she was.

_"I swear, that girl!" she cried, banging the dishes against the sink as she scrubbed them. "Is she trying to give me an ulcer? Doesn't she know how much I worry?"_

_"Of course she does," Dad replied in a soothing voice. "That's why she didn't tell you. She knew you'd worry and she wanted to ease your mind. It's how she shows her love."_

_Mom huffed. "She's always trying to be so independent."_

_"No, not independent. Just less of a burden. She hides her pain so people won't get hurt with her."_

_There was a prolonged silence. Then I heard my mother sniffling._

_Dad continued. "She's so compassionate. Ever since she was young, she's been taking care of herself and of others. That's just who she is, dear."_

_Mom's voice was shaky with her tears. "I know…but I just wish that she'd let herself get taken care of every now and then."_

My chest welled with emotion. And for the very first time in three months, I let myself cry. I didn't bother to restrain my sobs, and I didn't once think of the fact that Dr. Levsky was witnessing my breakdown. I just let it all out. And I let Dr. Levsky and an invisible Edward see my pain.

Later that night, I found myself waiting nervously in Alice's room, sheathed in the deep violet silk of my dress, every inch of my body powdered and buffed. The two sisters declared that I was absolutely perfect and that Edward would drop dead at the sight of me (figuratively, of course), but I wasn't so sure.

Fifteen minutes before the dance started, the smallest Cullen sister pushed me down the winding staircase of their home to meet her brother waiting for me at the entrance. I concentrated on each step I took; I had to if I was to ensure that I stay upright. Alice had decided on the spur-of-the-moment to dress me in a pair of ridiculously high-heeled stilettos. As if I didn't have enough trouble with gravity.

I looked up when I finally made it to the base of the staircase. The moment I did, my eyes locked onto Edward's figure.

He stood next to the door of his home in a pair of crisply pressed black dress pants that hung just right on his slim hips. His torso was covered by a long-sleeved, royal blue button down shirt that managed to accentuate his straight, broad shoulders and the length of his muscled arms. A gold silk tie, the same shade of his eyes, hung from around his neck, emphasizing the long line of his body.

In short, he was breathtaking.

Equal parts of ecstasy and despair welled up inside of me. On the one hand, I was overjoyed that I was going to the dance with someone so beautiful. But on the other hand, how could I possibly compare to _that_ level of perfection?

I finally brought my eyes to Edward's face and the floor suddenly became _very_ shaky. His eyes, his perpetually intense eyes were suddenly burning in a way that made my heart pound so hard, it practically broke through my ribcage.

"You look amazing," I told him in a shaky voice. It was so hard to believe that he was real.

"You stole the words right out of my mouth," he said in reply, his voice thrumming with the same intensity that shone in his orbs.

"Are you two finished ogling each other, or can we leave yet?" demanded a sardonic voice behind me.

I jumped out of my trance and turned around. Alice was swathed in a pale pink, spaghetti strap dress that sparkled in the light. On anyone else, it would have looked plain, but on Alice, it looked spectacular. Her normally spiky black hair was smoothed carefully around her head and her inhumanly lovely face with its delicate features completed the picture of a petite fairy. However, her expression was currently twisted into one of impatience.

"We're going to be late if the two of you don't get moving," she pointed out tersely. Moments later, Jasper appeared behind her dressed similarly to Edward, but with black pants and a light, rose colored shirt, the exact same shade of Alice's dress. His tie was black with pink, diagonal stripes.

Emmett walked in from the direction of the living room. His huge, muscled frame was covered in black from head to toe; the only reprieve from the darkness of his ensemble was the slender white tie hanging from around his collar. The moment the huge Cullen brother spotted Jasper, he started snickering.

"Wow, Jazz. Next you're going to be asking for a unicorn for Christmas."

Jasper shot his brother a deadly look. "Haven't you heard, Emmett? Real men wear pink."

I wanted to point out the obvious: that he technically _wasn't_ a real man. However, the glare he was sending Emmett wasn't something I wanted to experience, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Can we leave now?" Rosalie demanded impatiently as she flew down the stairs. My heart immediately sank at the sight of her. She was dressed in a floor length, black gown, slinky and sensual. It was strapless and the bodice was cinched in such a way that it emphasized her incredibly narrow waist and hugged tightly around her hips. And there was a slit on the side that ran all the way up her thigh, giving a hint of the well sculpted, pale leg underneath the skirt.

"Yes," Edward said. Then he laid his cold hand on the small of my back and led me gently out the front door and to the sleek, black car that sat in the drive.

A thought occurred to me as I climbed into the car, careful not to twist my ankle in my ridiculously high heel. Edward's shirt was the exact same shade as my dress. We matched, just like Alice and Jasper, Rose and Emmett. "Did Alice dress you too?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Of course. She was the one who knew the color of your dress. There was no way she would have let go to the dance if we didn't match."

So it probably wasn't Jasper's idea to wear pink. "Huh. Poor Jasper. I guess he doesn't like pink after all."

He chuckled again. "I'm very partial to that shade of blue against your skin, though," he said very softly.

I blushed. There was no use telling Edward the same thing because just about anything looked good on him.

The drive was a short one. I had learned very quickly that Edward and his entire family had a penchant for speeding. It terrified me at first and it still continued to freak me out, but I tried to suppress the fear.

We arrived at the dance a couple of minutes late. Already there was a long, winding line leading out of the gym, filled with people waiting to get past the administration and into the party.

Edward and I took our place in line, followed closely by Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. The moment we did, though, all eyes were turned on us.

For the most part, the stares were ones of admiration. I could understand it when the girls' eyes glazed over when they saw the company I kept, and I could also understand their looks of anger and jealousy when their eyes turned to me. Edward must have noticed this too (or maybe he just heard their undoubtedly murderous thoughts), because the arm that was around my waist tightened and he pulled me closer against him.

"Don't worry about them," he whispered in my ear. "They don't matter tonight."

I nodded, but I wasn't as certain as he was. The uneasy feeling their glares sent me, coupled with the pit of fear in my stomach, was too difficult to ignore.

Once we got into the gym, Edward took my hand and led me onto the lit dance floor. The speakers blared a generic, fast-paced pop song, but we didn't pay attention to the rhythm. We dictated our own beat, softer and gentler than the others gyrating around us. And as I stared into the deep gold of his eyes, everything else started to fade away.

It was so easy to believe that we were alone in the middle of that crowded gym, gazing into each other's faces as if we would disappear at any moment. I drank him in like the desert sand in the middle of a rainstorm. He was an undeserved blessing in my dark and unhappy existence and while I knew that I shouldn't have him, I couldn't help but hold onto him as tightly as I could.

"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice, too low for any bystander to hear.

"I was just wishing that I could stay like this with you for the rest of my life," I answered.

His arms around my waist pulled me tighter against him. I couldn't breathe properly, but I wasn't complaining. "Well that's a good thing," he replied, "because I didn't plan on releasing you."

I smiled widely. "That's fine by me."

He grinned as well, with one corner of his mouth pulling up higher than the other in an uneven smile that never failed to send my heart racing. "I'm glad." And he tilted his face forward slowly so his lips could touch mine.

We stayed like that for a very long time, swaying to our own rhythm in the middle of a crowd of noisy teenagers, paying them mind as we kissed deeply into the night. All that mattered in that moment was Edward; all the rest of it fell away.

When he finally pulled away he chuckled at the bright red that spread across my cheeks. I ducked my head into his shoulders and he buried his face in the hair piled up on my head.

Halfway through the dance Edward pulled away slightly to smile into my eyes. "I'm rather proud of you at this moment."

I frowned in puzzlement. "Why?"

"Because you haven't once tripped on your heels tonight."

I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time. "Well part of the reason is that you haven't let me go long enough to let me trip."

He scoffed. "I was trying to give you a compliment."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

All too soon the dance ended and the gym lights turned on. Several couples jumped apart the moment the darkness disappeared, but Edward and I didn't. We stayed pressed against each other, oblivious to the fact that the music ended and that people were gathering their things and leaving.

Twenty minutes later, the only ones left in the room were the student council members cleaning up and the rest of the Cullen family, waiting for Edward and me to realize that everyone had already gone home. Emmett eventually got tired of waiting and cleared his throat rather loudly.

"Are you guys planning on going home any time soon?" he demanded.

Edward ripped his gaze away from me, the first time since he first saw me this evening and scowled at his huge brother. "Have I ever interrupted you and Rosalie?"

He snickered. "No, but only because you were too afraid of what would have happened."

Edward scoffed, but didn't say anything. He just turned to me and asked, "Are you ready to leave?"

I nodded. He took my hand securely in his and led me carefully out of the gym (I was determined to keep it an accident-free night) and to his car.

When we got to Charlie's house, we staged a long goodbye for my guardian's benefit. Then he drove his car back to his house while I fielded Charlie's questions as quickly as I could. The moment he lost interest in my evening, I dashed up the stairs as fast as I could without tripping on my stilettos and got ready for bed.

By the time my nighttime routine was already completed, Edward was sitting in my rocking chair with the afghan draped over his beautiful body. He too had changed from his stunning semi-formal attire to a simple sweater that still managed to look spectacular against his pale, devastatingly handsome face. Shyly, but still with great excitement, I crossed the room and climbed into his lap, cuddling into his chest as he wrapped the afghan snugly around me. As I drifted to sleep, I thought vaguely of the progress I made with Dr. Levsky and I realized that the hole in my chest had healed ever so slightly.

**A/N - Sorry I haven't had the chance to update lately. School started a few weeks ago and it's been kicking my ass ever since.**

**If you'd like to see a sneak peek and/or you'd like more my personal interpretation of this chapter, please visit my writer's blog! It's listed as my website on my profile.**

**And as always, reviews are much, uber, very, intensely, awesomely appreciated. If any of you have a question, I will be happy to answer them!**


	15. Sat Alone

**Sat Alone**

"Let's talk a little bit about Alan today," Dr. Levsky announced the moment I took my seat.

It was my sixth session and I was by myself. I had asked Edward to stop coming with me by the third session. When he asked me why with that heart-breaking, concerned expression on his face, I explained gently that I was strong enough now to go to them on my own. And I very much needed to do the rest of this on my own. He respected my wishes and dropped me off at Dr. Levsky's apartment every Friday afternoon.

"What do you want to know?" I asked. I was far enough in it that I stopped shaking uncontrollably whenever I was in his presence.

"How did you meet him?"

I shrugged. "He was my next-door-neighbor since before I could remember. He started baby-sitting me when I was five years old."

"So you knew him very well."

"Yeah."

"Remembering those times…does it make it worse?"

I sighed. "Of course it makes it worse."

"How do you feel whenever you remember the times from before?"

There weren't really any words to describe that level, that depth of betrayal. I tried to form the sentences in my head, but it was very difficult. "Every time I think about it, I just realize more and more that it was all a lie. How would you feel if you realized that your entire childhood was nothing but a sick joke?"

"He ruined your childhood without realizing it."

I swallowed hard. "Yeah. I can't even see my parents the same way. I can't think about those happy memories anymore, not when I know what's going to happen. Not when I know how the story ends."

Dr. Levsky tapped the pen thoughtfully against his chin. "If you saw him now, what would you say?"

The question threw me off guard a little bit. "Excuse me?"

"Pretend I'm Alan Vickers," he encouraged. "If I were Alan Vickers, what would you say to me?"

What would I say to him? What was there to say? And furthermore, how could I say it? I couldn't ever give justice to the endless pain I had suffered these long months, or the self-hatred that I still struggled with everyday. There was no way I could put into words the way he broke me, as if I were made of glass.

But I owed it to myself to try.

"Was this what you wanted, Alan?" My voice didn't sound like my own. It was smooth with a slight tremor hidden in the ice of my words. Dr. Levsky ceased to exist in front of me; his watery eyes darkened and his wrinkled visage smoothed and pulled tightly over his bone structure. Alan sat in front of me, staring at me with that sinister smirk, that complacent smile that was forever etched in the back of my brain. My lungs constricted, but I pushed through it.

"Was this what you were going for the whole time? Were you trying to tear me apart? Because if you were, then you definitely got what you wanted. I'm broken. You left me alone, bleeding and dead. I can't look at anyone without trying to read their minds, without trying to find their hidden motives. I can't trust anyone anymore. I can't laugh, I can't smile…I can't even breathe. You shadow me everywhere I go. I can't escape you."

I didn't realize that I had started shaking and I didn't notice the wetness that slowly trailed down my cheeks, but I had given up. I didn't care anymore if someone saw me weak. It was a relief to finally let go of my control. The small quaking in my voice started to grow, but I kept going.

"You never were my friend, were you? You never loved me…if you did, you wouldn't have tried to break me. But here I am, shattered and barely breathing. You used to be my best friend. You were the greatest mentor I ever had.

"But all of that, I can forgive. I can forgive you for tearing me apart. I can forgive you for ruining me. But what I can't forgive was what you did to my parents." My jaw clenched and my limbs began to shake. I squeezed my hands into tight fists in my lap as I let go of the rage that had been building up inside of me. "You murdered them. You had no right, no right whatsoever to do what you did to my mother. You can hurt me all you want, but what you did to Mom is unforgivable. I can never, _ever_ let that go. If it were in my power right now, I would take that damn poison and inject you myself.

"No matter how hard I try, I can't forget what you did to me. But I will _always_ remember what you did to my parents, and that is something that I will hold onto forever. And the next time I see you, I'll make sure that you remember too."

When I had finished my speech, Alan's taunting expression slowly melted back into Dr. Levsky soft face. The room was completely silent and I breathed in deeply through my nose to calm the tremors in my limbs.

"That was very good, Bella," Dr. Levsky said encouragingly. "However, I do have a question. Why do you refuse to forget what he did to your parents while you try so hard to push away what he did to you?"

There were a million explanations as to why I wanted to forget what happened to me. But I never wanted to forget what he did to Mom for much simpler reasons. "Mothers and daughters have bonds that can't be easily broken. It's a very basic need, to protect these bonds as much as possible, despite their strength. But when they are broken, they leave behind empty holes, huge gaping chasms that can never be refilled. Mine's inside my chest, where my heart is—probably where my heart once was. Alan Vickers broke that bond. If my mother were alive, there would be a hole inside of her too. In fact, I'm sure she has one right now, even in the afterlife; it's that strong. And the only thing more resilient than this bond is the need for revenge against whatever broke it in the first place."

"So you want revenge against Alan?"

I shook my head. "I don't want it. I _need_ it."

Dr. Levsky didn't say anything for a long time. He just sat in his usual chair and thought about what I said very carefully.

When he finally spoke up again, he didn't continue the line of conversation. Instead, he talked about something completely different. "Bella, Julia Andrews called me this morning. She said that Alan Vickers trial begins next week."

My heart started pounding furiously. So soon.

"She called me to ask if I think you're ready to take the stand."

He didn't say anything for a loaded moment and I started to fidget. "Well?" I asked when I couldn't stand my impatience any longer. "Do you?"

"I don't think it's really my opinion that matters," he said. "I think what matters is whether or not _you_ think you're ready."

Did I think I was ready? I wasn't sure. It was one thing to talk about what happened with Dr. Levsky, when I was sitting on his couch and he was gently encouraging me to open up. It was another thing entirely to be sitting in a severe wooden chair, being forced to answer question after question of events that I still tried to block from my memory.

"I don't know," I said hesitantly.

"You should think about it," he said. "But to tell you the truth, Bella, I think you've been ready for quite a while. You just need to believe that you are."

Minutes later, I was walking out of Dr. Levsky's apartment and Edward was leaning against his dark blue car, his expression intensely anxious.

"How are you?" he asked the moment I stepped to his side. He asked this same question every time I finished a session with Dr. Levsky. Every week my answer would be different, but truthful. However, today I wasn't quite sure of my reply.

"Alan Vickers' trial starts next week," I informed him as he held the door for me. "Mrs. Andrews wants to know if I'm ready to testify."

"Are you?" he asked as he slid into his own seat.

"I don't know. Dr. Levsky thinks I am, but I'm…I'm not so sure."

Edward pursed his lips as he turned the ignition and backed out of the parking lot. He was on the highway before he replied. "For what it's worth, Bella, I agree with Dr. Levsky. I think you're ready."

Was I? I didn't feel ready. I didn't feel that much different than before I met Edward; maybe I was a little bit lighter. Maybe I was little bit fuller, and maybe that hole wasn't as big as it used to be. But it was still there, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get rid of it.

There was really only way to see if I was ready or not. It would be the ultimate test.

Edward and I went through the usual Friday evening routine: homework, dinner, then up to my room to just hang out.

But as the sky gradually dimmed outside, I could feel it building up within me. I could feel the final test looming ever closer, waiting for me to pass or fail. And failing was not an option.

The time came too quickly. Eventually Edward looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to get ready for bed. So I did, but with great trepidation; my hands shook as I squeezed my toothpaste and I jumped at every little surprising sound. I had to constantly remind myself that there was no one and nothing there that could hurt me, but my nerves were so frazzled and I was so on edge emotionally that I couldn't fully convince myself of this fact.

When I was finally finished, I walked back into my room. Edward was standing in front of the door, waiting for me patiently like he did every night, but with a look of great concern on his angelic face.

"Bella?" he whispered. "Bella, are you okay?"

I shook my head and my lips trembled. I tried to still those chattering nerves, but I could only exercise control of one reaction at a time, and restraining my tears was the priority at that point. "Edward, I need your help."

In less than a second he was at my side, stroking my face and holding me tightly to him. "What do you need?"

I clung to the fabric on his sleeves. "Don't let me go, okay?" The plea was a whisper of desperation, but it was the most distressed request I had ever made of him.

"Never," he said in reply.

After several minutes of terrified trembling, I slowly concentrated our bodily contact to just one hand and made toward the bed. It sat innocently enough, hospital corners still intact and dusty from disuse. With the hand that wasn't clutching Edward's, I reached down and pulled the quilt back. My breathing was shallow and my heart was pounding so fast and so hard, it felt more like a continuous thrum, like a hummingbird.

When the covers were pulled back enough for me to slip underneath them, I very, very slowly lowered myself down onto the sheets and Edward followed closely behind.

For a couple of minutes, I lay completely still and stiff as a board as the memories bombarded me, one after the other. I had been prepared for it, but it still didn't make the tears stop. Soon the shaking turned into inconsolable crying and I wept quietly as I relived every second of my torture. The cold hand around mine was not enough to shield me from these terrors; it seemed as if nothing was.

Eventually, Edward rolled over and wrapped me in his cold embrace, and I welcomed the contact gladly. I buried my head in his chest and wept into his sweater, probably ruining the fabric with my viscous fluids, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

After a half hour of this terrified weeping, Edward started to hum my lullaby and this eased my fits to random jerking movements. My tears gradually receded enough that I could close my eyes for a long enough amount of time to actually fall asleep.

_I knew it was a dream. I was usually able to tell if something was a dream, but this didn't prevent the terror. The cold hand that had tethered me to reality for so long was suddenly gone, and I grasped at nothing for countless minutes, completely terrified of being let alone in an unfamiliar setting that was bound to scar me._

_Suddenly, the vision of myself that I had seen several times before appeared beside me. She was smiling widely, and offering her hand to me. I took the proffered hand without a second thought and she squeezed it tightly._

_"Are you ready?" she asked._

_"Not at all," I whispered in reply._

_"Yes, you are," she said encouragingly. "I believe in you."_

_Suddenly, Edward appeared on my other smile with that same reassuring smile. His eyes were twinkling happily, the same way they did when we finally declared our love for one another. "I'm here with you," he murmured in that beautiful, musical voice of his._

_Both hands squeezed mine in a show of solidarity. I breathed in deeply and felt their confidence well up inside me. Bravely, I walked forward, never letting their hands go for a moment._

_The dreamscape changed and I was sitting on a severe wooden chair, facing a jury and Mrs. Andrews. She tried to keep my attention on her, but my glance kept fearfully reverting to the complacent visage sitting at the table behind her._

_"Bella, where were you the night your parents died?"_

_I swallowed hard. My hands were fidgeting in my lap, refusing to lie still, so I turned my gaze downward. "I was in Mr. Vickers' home," I whispered._

_"Were you witness to their murder?"_

_"Yes."_

_"What happened?"_

_I swallowed hard. "Alan brought them into the…room…I was staying in. He thought I was asleep, but I saw the whole thing._

_"Both of them were unconscious. He started beating my dad up first…he kicked him in the stomach, punched him in the face. Dad…he started to wake up a little. He struggled, but he was too weak. Then Alan took…he took the knife and he stabbed it into his stomach. He stabbed it over and over again."_

_My throat stuck and I couldn't breathe. I had to stop speaking for a moment so I could regain enough composure to keep going._

_"Bella?" Mrs. Andrews gently goaded. "What about your mother?"_

_The trembling grew. My eyes welled up with tears and I desperately tried to wipe them away before anyone could notice._

_"He…he beat her up too. But he—he took her clothes off first. And he…he had sex with her while she was unconscious before he killed her."_

_"So he raped her," Mrs. Andrews clarified mildly._

_I flinched at the term. "Yes."_

_"Thank you, Bella. No further questions, your honor." Then she strode back to her table._

_Alan's lawyer stood up and buttoned his jacket closed as he approached me on the stand. "Ms. Dwyer…you say you were in the room when you witnessed the murder."_

_"Yes."_

_"You were in Mr. Vickers' home?"_

_"Yes."_

_He frowned theatrically for the jury. "Why were you in Mr. Vickers' home in the first place?"_

_My heart sputtered and stopped. Mrs. Andrews leapt up from her seat. "Objection, your honor, relevance?"_

_"I'm merely trying to establish Ms. Dwyer's credibility," Mr. Townsend replied._

_The judge deliberated briefly. "I'll allow it."_

_"Why were you in Mr. Vickers' home?"_

_My heartbeat kicked in again, but at full speed. I couldn't tell them—I couldn't tell the jury what had happened. Not to mention, Mrs. Andrews warned me that they would declare an automatic mistrial._

_"I…I…"_

_"Since Ms. Dwyer has difficulty understanding the question, I will rephrase." Mr. Townsend smirked as he came closer to the witness stand. I edged away, but I was fenced in and unable to move. "What caused you to be in that room in Mr. Vickers' home?"_

_I was defeated. I was pushed against a corner and he knew it. He was reveling in my defeat and his obvious victory._

_I should have known that there was no way I could win. This should have been obvious from the very beginning. I had no chance. Alan would always win._

_Mr. Townsend smirked with satisfaction. "No further questions, your honor."_

_The judge turned to me and nodded coldly. "Ms. Dwyer, you may step down."_

_The moment I stepped off the witness stand, my knees buckled underneath me. The bailiff was there to catch me, but I jerked away from his touched and clumsily stumbled out of the courtroom. Whispers followed me as I left, but I didn't care. The urge to go curl up in a corner and never leave was strong within me, but Detective Manning managed to grab me before I got very far away._

_"Bella—"_

_"Let me go," I muttered unimpressively._

_"Bella, you can't leave. There's still a chance."_

_"There is no chance," I said dully. "Weren't you there just now? He backed me into a corner. He had me trapped and he knew it." I shook my head. "I never should have taken the stand to begin with. That was such a mistake."_

_"No, honey," she whispered. "That was not a mistake."_

_"He's going to get off, isn't he?"_

_Detective Manning didn't answer._

_"Isn't he?" I pressed._

_She sighed. "It…it doesn't look good," she finally answered._

_I closed my eyes. _Mom,_ I thought to myself with despair,_ I'm so sorry.

_Moments later the scene dissolved. I was in that horrid bed, chained to the bedposts, bleeding and broken. It was a scene I had relived countless times, but it never failed to tear me apart with its intensity._

_"Bella," the voice whispered—but this time, the voice was embodied. The face that starred in my nightmares, that haunted my thoughts loomed much too close, threatening to steal another kiss._

_"Please," I whimpered. "Please, just kill me."_

_"I could never kill you," he murmured tenderly. I shuddered and shied away from the approach of his lips. "I love you so much."_

"Bella,"_ a different voice called._ "Bella, I love you."_ It echoed in my mind as if it were far away. But the voice was so familiar that it felt closer. My heart called back and a sense of strength returned to my muscles._

_Alan's hands began to roam over my body, but I jerked away. "Get away!" I yelled. "Get away from me!"_

_A sharp blow landed across my face. "Don't talk back!" he shouted._

_Fury welled deep within me and I let it go. He could no longer touch me in this dream world. This was my safe haven, and I refused to let him invade this intangible universe._

_"NO!" I screamed. All of a sudden, the chains were gone and my wounds were gone. I flew off the bed and lunged at him, throwing my fists into ever bit of him I could. "Get away from me! You aren't real!"_

_"Yes, I am," he whispered in my ear, despite my flailing punches. "I'm right here, right now. I'm always with you, and I will never leave you. You are mine."_

_"NO, I AM NOT!" With every bit of strength I possessed, I planted my palms into his chest and threw him off of me. "I do not belong to you! I WILL NEVER BELONG TO YOU!"_

_"Yes, you will!" he screamed back. "I have made you mine!"_

_Abruptly, a cold hand wrapped around mine. I looked up to my side and I saw Edward's eyes on fire, reflecting the same passion I felt within myself. He nodded encouragingly and squeezed my hand for extra support._

_It was time for this nightmare to end._

_"Goodbye, Alan." And with the pair of scissors that materialized in my hand, I stabbed them into his stomach._

"Bella?"

My fitful nightmare slowly began to melt away. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was in Edward's arms and he was holding me tightly despite how fitfully I was fighting against his embrace.

"Bella, are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

"Edward," I whispered. When I remembered where I was, I buried my tear-stained face into his sweater once more. "Edward, thank you. Thank you so much."

"What for?" he asked bewilderedly. "I haven't done anything. Bella, what's going on? Are you okay? What happened?"

"You've done everything," I countered. "You've given me everything. You've given me the strength to overcome this. I _will_ overcome this."

He lowered his face and buried his nose into my hair. "That strength was there the whole time, Bella. You were strong enough the whole time."

Now was not the time to disagree. I was too grateful; I finally found the part inside of me that could deal with this. And I could.

Not once did he let go—not even in my sleep. He held on tightly, and my grip was just as strong.

"I'm ready," I murmured. "I'm ready for this."

"I know you are."

A shred of remaining terror flared up within me. "You'll be there, won't you? You won't leave me by myself, right?"

His embrace tightened. "I would never," he murmured. "I made a promise, Bella. I made a promise to you and to myself that I would see you through this until the very end. You're so close, and I won't rest until you're finally free."

I rejoiced at his words, the fire within me gaining strength with every word he spoke.

"We'll all be there with you," he continued. "Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett, Alice, Esme, and Rosalie. We'll all come with you."

The support was staggering. Even in my past life, I never had this level of commitment. It was so much more than I deserved that I started crying again.

"Love?" he whispered, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered. "I mean…I…I…"

"Yes?" he gently goaded.

"I didn't think that something like this was possible," I murmured. "You, your family, Dr. Levsky, the detectives…I didn't think that I could do this."

"They love you, too," he reminded me. "It's only natural that they would want to be there."

It was staggering. It was all completely mind-blowing. But in the midst of all this revelation, something became completely obvious.

We're all meant to lead whole lives. We were all meant for so much more than what we've been given. What separates us all is whether or not we take the opportunity to make ourselves whole, despite the obstacles designed to break us once more. And I was tired of settling for my broken pieces. It was now time for me to accept the life I was meant to live.

**A/N - Wow, I realize that this chapter is so long overdue, it's not even funny. I'm so sorry about the long wait in updatage, but school...well, ya'll know how it is.**

**And despite the really long time, things haven't changed. Check out the blog and don't forget to review!**


	16. Here We Go

**Here We Go**

"Do you have any questions, Bella?"

I was once again in this terrifying setting, waiting for something that would change my life forever. The detectives, Mrs. Andrews, Dr. Levsky, Edward and Rosalie were all standing around me in a tiny room, waiting for the court to reconvene.

"Do you think I'm prepared enough?" I asked Mrs. Andrews quietly.

She squatted down so that I was eye-level with her. "You're more than prepared. You are more prepared than I could ever make you."

"You can do this, Bella," Dr. Lesky murmured reassuringly. "You've been ready for a long time."

"We'll be right there with you," Edward added. "All of us will make sure you're safe."

"See?" Rosalie said very gently. "I knew that you were strong enough."

I reached forward and gripped her hand. "You'll make sure he won't get to me, right?" While everyone else's presence was very touching, the Cullens' presence was the most important to me and only Rosalie could understand what I felt right now.

"I will," she said reassuringly with a squeeze. "He won't get to you."

A few moments later, the bailiff entered the room. "Court is back in session."

All too soon I was walking down that foreboding hallway that seemed to go on for miles. The detectives pushed through the doors for me and I followed Mrs. Andrews with Rosalie and Edward by my side.

The bailiff announced the Judge Lardner's presence and we sat down after she did. "The prosecution may proceed," she declared with a wave of her hand.

Mrs. Andrews stood and my heart started pounding. "The state calls Isabella Dwyer to the stand."

Rosalie and Edward both squeezed my hands as I stood up. My knees were shaking and I felt as if I would fall back down in the seat, but I refused. I clenched my jaw and walked forward. The witness stand loomed ever closer, but I held on to my confidence. Now was not the time to let it go.

After the bailiff swore me in, Mrs. Andrews walked toward me with a reassuring smile on her face. I took in a deep breath that I hoped would calm my jittery nerves.

"Ms. Dwyer, where were you on November third at approximately three forty in the afternoon?"

"I was coming home from school," I answered automatically.

"Was there anything out of the ordinary when you got home?"

"My parents weren't there. They told me they would be, so I just waited."

"What happened while you waited?"

I swallowed. "I went to the closet in the hallway to hang up my coat. When I opened the door, I saw my mother sitting on the floor."

"What was she doing there?"

"She was hiding."

"From whom?"

My glance flickered to Alan behind Mrs. Andrews. His face was the same as ever and his smirk complacent. Instead of shying away from that repulsive face, I sat a little straighter in my seat. "From Alan."

"Why?"

"He attacked her."

"How do you know?"

A chill ran down my spine and my arms raised with goose bumps. "When she saw me, she pulled me into the closet with her to protect me. She said she was going to try and hold him off and when I asked her why she was hiding, she wouldn't answer. Then Alan came into the house and Mom leapt from the closet to attack him. That's how I knew. That's also when I realized that she was in nothing but her underwear."

"What happened after that?"

I thought my answer over carefully. "She kept attacking him because she was trying to keep him away from me. But I didn't want her to get hurt, so I pushed her away and told her to run. I kept telling her to run and that I would keep him away. She finally did."

Mrs. Andrews paused. I knew the question that was coming next and she was giving me time to mentally prepare myself for it. I took in a deep breath before she asked her next question. "And what happened after your mother ran away?"

The courtroom disappeared before me as the memories all came rushing back. But this time, I didn't fight it.

"When my mother left, he grabbed me and kissed me. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. Then he punched me in the stomach and I passed out. When I woke up, I was chained to a bed in nothing but my underwear."

Murmurs rang through the courtroom, but I was too lost in the memories to focus on them. The judge banged her gavel several times and called for order. When the room quieted down, Mrs. Andrews continued with her interrogation.

"What happened after you woke up?"

Unconsciously, I raised my hand to my throat and scratched. "Alan came into the room with a rope. He tied it around my neck and squeezed to the point that I couldn't breathe. He kept telling me to scream, louder and louder. Then he started punching me and slapping me. I don't know how long it lasted, but it felt like a really long time.

"When he was finished, he ripped off my underwear and…and he…he…"

The words wouldn't come. I watched in these horrifying memories as Alan did unspeakable things to me. I felt sore all over, but I continued.

"He raped me." I was barely aware of the tears that were streaming from my eyes. "He raped me over and over again. He would slap me, hit me, hurt me as much as he could so that I was too weak to fight back. I was chained to that bed for a week. I couldn't leave, not even to go to the bathroom."

The shaking had risen to uncontrollable levels. It was humiliating, reliving these terrors for people I didn't even know. But it was terrifying to do so in front of the man that ruined me so completely. The primal self-preservation instinct screamed at me to stop, to run away. Panic blocked my throat and Alan's furious expression tore through my heart.

I couldn't do this. What in the world made me think I could in the first place? I tried before and that ended in disaster. This would end even worse.

But a sudden wave of calm washed through me. My jittering eased slightly, enough for my hands to lie relatively still in my lap. I looked up into the audience to where the Cullen family was sitting. Edward and Jasper were watching me with identical, protective expressions. Rosalie sat next to them with a fierce look in her eyes.

I took in another deep breath. I had to do this. Running away was no longer an option; and besides, I wasn't just fighting for myself, or my parents. I was fighting for Rosalie and Esme, and everyone who suffered abuse.

This fight was more than just Alan and me. This was bigger than I could ever imagine. But it had to end, and I was going to end it myself.

"Can you tell the court how often he raped you?"

I looked straight in Mrs. Andrews' eyes, afraid to let my eyes wander anywhere else. "Everyday, I think. I never knew the time, so I can't be sure."

She came closer, making sure to block Alan from my view. "How did Mr. Vickers rape you, Bella?"

I clutched at my arms. "It was different all the time. He'd tie a bag over my head sometimes and sometimes he'd use a rope. He liked choking me a lot." My throat hurt just remembering it. "Sometimes he would rape me with a flashlight." I trembled all over as my body relived the agonizing pain. "One time he used a baseball bat. And then…" I forced myself to swallow, "and then he beat me over the head with it."

Silence echoed through the courtroom as my words sank in. I didn't dare look at anything other than my hands for fear of the reactions I didn't want to see.

After an extended pause, Mrs. Andrews asked her final question. "Did he tell you why he did it, Bella?"

"He said he loved me," I whispered. "He said he loved me and that this was the only way we could be together. He said this was the only way he could make me his."

Mrs. Andrews shot me a reassuring half smile before turning away. "No further questions, your honor."

Part of me was relieved that her questions were over. But a greater part of me knew that something much worse was coming.

The moment Mrs. Andrews sat down, Mr. Townsend stood up. "Ms. Dwyer…where were you the evening before, the incident?"

I was bewildered, but I forced my memory to go further than where it was. "Um…I was in the emergency room."

"Why?"

Mrs. Andrews leapt up. "Objection, your honor. Relevance?"

But Mr. Townsend ignored her. "Why were you in the emergency room, Bella?"

I was confused and overwhelmed. He was standing much too close and my guard immediately flew up. I knew the only way to make him go away was to answer the question. So I did.

"I hit my head during P.E."

"You hit your head during P.E. Was this the first time you've ended up in the emergency room after an accident in your physical education class?"

"Objection!" shouted Mrs. Andrews.

But Mr. Townsend was persistent. "Was it, Ms. Dwyer?"

"No, but—"

"Thank you. On average, how many hours would you say you spend in the emergency room in a month?"

"I don't—"

"Answer the question, Ms. Dwyer."

"Objection, your honor! He's badgering the witness!"

The judge tried to interrupt. "Counsel—"

"Answer the question, Ms. Dwyer!"

"I don't know!" I cried in reply. Everyone was shouting and screaming and I was so confused. "I probably went to the emergency room once or twice a week!"

"Once or twice a week…so you have a history of hurting yourself, and you had a head injury the night before you're so-called 'abduction.' Very convenient, Ms. Dwyer."

"Your honor, this entire line of questioning is completely irrelevant!" Mrs. Andrews argued. "He is clearly badgering the witness and disregarding the rules in your own court! The last testimony should be struck from the record!"

"Your honor, I am simply trying to establish the fact that Ms. Dwyer has an affinity for unfortunate accidents, an affinity that might very well explain her injuries. How do we know that her bruises were not self-inflicted? And how do we know that her testimony is entirely truthful? People who have suffered numerous concussions have been known to hallucinate."

"Are you telling me that you think her story is a _hallucination_?" Mrs. Andrews demanded.

"What other explanation is there?" Mr. Townsend shouted back.

I was vaguely aware that Judge Lardner was banging her gavel and calling for order, but I didn't care. My ears were ringing and my clenched fists were trembling. I was so furious that I couldn't even think clearly.

"Your honor, this is ridiculous! Counsel obviously sees that he has no defense so he's stooped to badgering and leading the witness!"

"Or _maybe_ I'm trying to show that Ms. Dwyer may have a deep history of dementia! It's well documented that people who suffer regular concussions eventually lose—"

"Quiet, the both of you!" cried Judge Lardner. "I will not have this chaos in the court! Now the both of you will _sit_ down and—"

I couldn't take it anymore. The rage was building so deep that I had to do something. So I slowly stood up from the severe wooden chair in that claustrophobic witness stand and concentrated my gaze at the defense attorney.

"Mr. Townsend," I began in a shaky and quiet voice. The entire courtroom fell silent at my words. "Imagine that one of your close family friends chained you to a bed. Imagine that this friend beat you every night until you coughed up blood. Imagine that he choked you with plastic bags and ropes until you couldn't even breathe. Imagine that you'd been locked up for a week, screaming until your throat was sore and ravaged.

"And then imagine him raping you every night as he beat you over and over again. Imagine him scratching every inch of your skin and pulling on your legs until he dislocated your arms from your shoulders. Imagine that you're all alone with nothing but this monster dredged up from your worst nightmares torturing you every night. Imagine not being able to leave the bed to eat or even go to the bathroom.

"Imagine him whispering to you that he loved you over and over again. Imagine him killing your father right before your eyes and imagine him raping your mother before he plunged a knife into her stomach. Then imagine him whispering that you're his for all eternity. Can you, Mr. Townsend? Can you imagine?"

The room was deathly quiet. Mr. Townsend didn't say a word. He couldn't even look me in the eyes.

"You can't, can you?"

He didn't answer.

"Neither can I."

Mrs. Andrews smiled smugly and Mr. Townsend looked away. "No further questions, your honor," he said quietly as he walked back to his table.

Mrs. Andrews eyed the defense attorney warily before she resumed her seat. The distrust was plain as day in her expression.

Judge Lardner nodded and turned to me with a kind, maternal expression. "Ms. Dwyer, you may step down."

I didn't hesitate. The moment the words left her mouth, I opened the little gate and walked off toward the audience without once looking back.

Judge Lardner called for another recess, and I immediately fled the courtroom to the waiting room down the hall. Rosalie was close behind.

"Bella, you were wonderful," she said with a brilliant smile on her inhumanly beautiful face. She came forward to wrap me in a strong hug. I squeezed her back as hard as I could, but my feeble strength was nothing compared to her grip.

"Rosalie, it was so hard," I whispered. "I didn't think I could do it. I thought I would fall apart on the witness stand for everyone to see."

"I know it was hard," she murmured back. "But you were amazing. I'm so proud of you."

Seconds later, Mrs. Andrews and the detectives burst through the door, followed shortly by Dr. Levsky and the rest of the Cullen family.

"Bella, that was so powerful," Mrs. Andrews said fervently. "I really think you got the jury to listen to you. There's no way he's going to get off this time."

"Very good job, Bella," agreed Dr. Levsky, beaming widely. "I don't think I've ever been so proud of anyone I've ever counseled." Detectives Anderson and Manning nodded with congratulatory smiles of their own.

But as wonderful as their words were, none of them were as important to me as Edward. His reaction was what I feared the most.

Almost as if on cue, I turned and Edward was there. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closely to him. "You are the strongest being I've ever met, human or otherwise," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. "I love you, Bella."

I didn't say anything in reply. I just clung to him tightly, refusing to let go.

* * *

"All rise for the honorable Judge Lardner," the bailiff announced.

I rose to my very shaky knees. Edward stood on my right side while Rosalie stood on my left. Both of them were gripping my hands as hard as they could without breaking my bones. Their presence was the only thing that kept me from collapsing back into my seat.

Alan turned around for a brief moment and I made the mistake of looking back. He glared at me with piercing black eyes and a thrill of terror ran through me. But I knew in the back of my mind that this terror was not as strong as it had been and I took comfort in the difference.

Beside me, Edward growled. It wasn't very loud, but it was a menacing sound nonetheless and it made me shiver. A spasm of fear flashed across Alan's face and he quickly turned back around to face the front.

Judge Lardner took her seat and everyone followed suit. My heart started pounding in my ears; this was it. This was the moment that I had been leading up to for the past five months.

It would finally end here.

Judge Lardner cleared her throat imperiously. "Foreman? Has the jury reached a verdict?"

The foreman stood. "We have, your honor."

"What say you?"

"On the count of aggravated sexual assault…we the jury, find the defendant, Alan Vickers, guilty."

The courtroom erupted into murmurs, but I didn't hear a single one of them. I was too focused on my knees giving out.

"On the count of rape, we the jury find the defendant, Alan Vickers, guilty."

I couldn't believe. I just couldn't believe it.

"Bella!" Detective Manning cried excitedly. "Bella, you did it! You did it!"

All of a sudden, my chest felt lighter. The hole that had been slowly mending over the past five months left nothing but a vague scar, unnoticeable at first sight. I finally felt my spirit and my mother's spirit laid to rest.

"Bella, it's over!" Mrs. Andrews turned around and shouted the moment Judge Lardner banged her gavel. "He's in prison! You did it!"

Everyone around me was celebrating the victory. Everyone had accepted the outcome so readily, as if they were expecting it. But I wasn't. The news was taking its sweet time reaching me.

I spent countless nights on end, avoiding sleep to avoid that haunting face. I lost myself in every little task I performed to avoid dredging up unwanted memories. I scratched away at my arm to chase the numbness that I so desperately desired.

For so long, I nursed the hole in my chest, uselessly trying to bury the events that I wasn't strong enough to face. But now, I was here. I was here surrounded by people who loved and cared for me, enough that they would fly all the way to Phoenix to hold my hand as I watched the monster from my worst nightmares carried away to prison.

He was gone now. He was gone and he was never coming back.

"Edward," I whispered. "It's over."

He smiled brilliantly and I was almost knocked over by its force. "Yes, love. It's over."

Tears started brimming in the bottom of my eyelids. The weight of it all lifting from my shoulders…never before had I realized what I was carrying with me. I couldn't understand how heavy it was until I finally let it go. And when I did, it felt so, so good.

I threw my arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around my waist as I sobbed into his shoulder. I was free. I was free.

When we finally let each other go, I turned and hugged Rosalie as well.

"Thank you, Bella," she said. Her expression was so powerful, so ambivalent that I was sure if she were capable, tears would have been streaming from her eyes.

"For what, Rosalie?" I asked.

"For everything," she said in reply. "You finally overcame what I never could. And you accomplished what I never could."

I shook my head. "But—"

She cut me off. "Thank you for sharing this victory with me, Bella."

I lifted my chin to kiss her on the forehead. "I never could have done it without your strength."

When the celebrating died down, Detectives Manning and Anderson helped escort me out of the courtroom.

"There's bound to be a mob waiting for you outside," Detective Anderson warned me. "Are you sure you're ready?"

I nodded. "I've been ready for a long time."

He wasn't exaggerating. The moment the doors opened for me, bulbs were flashing and microphones were shoved in my face. A million different reporters were shouting their questions at me, and none of them were comprehendible by any stretch of the imagination.

"Ms. Dwyer! Ms. Dwyer!" One reporter managed to make herself heard over the throng of others. "How do you feel about the ruling?"

"Relieved," I said in reply.

"Ms. Dwyer, do you feel any remorse for what happened?"

"Every single day," I answered. "I wish none of had ever happened, but I can't go back and change the past. It's over, as much as I wish it weren't. All I can do now is keep rebuilding."

I decided that that was the last question I was ever going to answer about this ordeal. So with the detectives' help, I managed to push my way through the crowd of crazed reporters. When they realized that I didn't want to talk to them anymore, they slowly dissipated, looking for other sources that might help them with their stories.

But I should have known that it wouldn't be that easy…after all, nothing in my life is.

As our group made its way to exit the courthouse, a very familiar face loomed into view. "Bella," the man called jovially. "Congratulations."

Before I could realize what was going on, something small and sharp pierced my chest with a crushing blow and I felt myself falling backwards from its force.

"NO!" Edward's roar echoed through the drafty hallway. The detectives leapt at the man, causing him to drop his gun to the tile with a loud clatter.

I felt the bullet lodged deep into my chest and the blood was seeping out, slowly staining my clothes as it dripped to the floor. All around me, people were rushing and shouting. But none of that mattered now.

I struggled to hold onto what little breath I had left. "Edward," I whispered. "I love you. Please, don't let me die." The fingers gripping him went limp and the blackness overtook me. And all I could hear as I drifted into the light was my angel's frantic sobs.

**A/N - Sorry for leaving you on such a cliff-hanger! Well...not really. :)**

**In case you haven't read the blog, this is the last chapter and an epilogue is soon to come. If you review, I'll feel more motivated to write/update faster. -nudge nudge, wink wink-**

**And all of you guys should thank Idyllic Nocturne for beta-ing so quickly.**


	17. Epilogue: I'm Here, and I'm on the Mend

**Epilogue: I'm Here, and I'm on the Mend**

"Do you have any questions, Sarah?"

The young girl looked up and fear flashed across her face for a brief moment, but it was quickly smothered by a blank look. "What's going to happen next?" she asked quietly.

"I'm going to go into the courtroom and give my closing argument to the jury. After that, they're going to deliberate and then give the verdict."

She looked away, but I knew that there was terror in her eyes. "What if he gets off?"

I knelt down so I was eye level with her. "Then I will do everything in my power to make sure that you're safe and that he can't get to you." I couldn't promise her that he would remain in prison, but I could make sure that he would never see her again. She deserved that much.

Fifteen minutes later, the court reconvened. The jury sat in their box, watching me expectantly. I took an unneeded breath and drew upon all my…er, _natural_ charms for my closing argument.

"Imagine, ladies and gentlemen, being cornered in a bathroom—a place that's supposed to be safe for the general public. Picture yourselves pressed against the wall, trying to desperately to fight against someone who's supposed to be your friend. He's throwing your head repeatedly against the tile wall…he's brutally beating into you with his fists…and he's tearing at your clothes. You have no power against him, and even if you did, you're too terrified to use it."

My clear, musical voice echoed through the courtroom, quiet, but strong. The entire room sat mesmerized by my delivery. I paused for a moment to let the words sink in.

"When he's finished, he leaves you for dead in that godforsaken bathroom. And since it's after closing hours, no one can find or help you until the next day. When the opening manager finally finds you, she assumes that you fell asleep and forces you to go to work anyway, ignoring your injuries and subtly hinting at firing you.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, _two_ crimes were committed here. Sarah Martin was brutally raped by Matthew Foster, a young man she presumed to be her _friend_. And after the incident, her employer, Kristin Hall completely disregarded her need.

"Our employment laws in Washington are concrete and absolute, and they guarantee that no one will be forced to work when one is severely injured. This law was clearly violated in Sarah Martin's case; her injuries were as clear as _day_, yet her employer refused to let her go to the hospital. And what's worse, she was almost _fired_.

"And the worst of all, she was raped." I knew Sarah was cringing behind me and I noticed several jury members shift uncomfortably in their seats. But I let the words hang in the air. The effect of that four-letter word never ceased to amaze me. "Rape. The most despicable of crimes in this nation. The laws in Washington concerning rape are designed to prevent terrible tragedies such as this from happening. Yet still, every two minutes someone is sexually assaulted in the United States. We can't allow this cycle of violence to continue any longer. Make it stop right here, right now.

"All the evidence is there. I don't need to point it out to you, ladies and gentlemen. You've seen the pictures and you've heard the accounts from the medical examiner and from Ms. Martin herself. You must conclude, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant, Matthew Foster, raped Ms. Martin, and that Kristin Hall as good as helped.

"And if the evidence isn't enough to convince you, imagine that it was you. Or imagine that it was your sister, or your mother, or your daughter. It very well could have been. And if justice isn't served today, you increase the chances of it happening to you or someone very close to you."

I paused and watched each and every single member of the jury carefully. They were eating right out of the palm of my hands.

"Sarah Martin will never be the same. The least you could do is to make sure the monster that plagues her nightmares will never torment her or another innocent girl ever again."

Less than five hours later, the jury returned with the verdict: guilty with thirty years in prison and no chance of parole.

As the courtroom slowly dissipated, Sarah walked up to me. "Ms. Swan?" she asked tentatively.

I smiled. "Yes, Sarah?"

"Thank you," she said very quietly, but with a fervent gratitude that shone in her eyes. "I mean, you were the only one who believed me. You were the only one who helped me and…and there aren't enough words to…to…"

I raised my hand and gently placed it on her shoulder. "You don't have to thank me, Sarah. You deserved better than what you got. I was just making sure you were taken care of."

Her eyes welled over with tears and she threw her arms around my neck. I chuckled and hugged her back, careful not to put too much strength in it.

When she was gone, an arm slid around my waist and a pair of lips met my ear. "That was very moving, Ms. Swan," a seductively sweet voice murmured.

Electricity shot through my veins. "Well thank you, Mr. Cullen."

I turned to see Edward smiling brilliantly at me, and I beamed widely back.

It had been fifteen years since that fateful day. But despite it all, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. The events in my life were terrible and tragic, but if I hadn't experienced it all, I never would have been here. I never would have found the strength to love Edward as much as I did and now, as a vampire, my love for him was stronger than any enduring fortress. Nothing could tear me from his side and nothing could separate him from me. We were united forever.

"Let's go home," he said as he held out his hand.

I nodded and took his pale hand in mine. "Home," I agreed.

How good it was to be home.

**A/N - It's finished! It's finished! It's finished!**

**Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this. I appreciate it so much.**


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